


Holding On And Letting Go

by Fallenstar92



Series: We'll Make It Out Alive [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Caring Mickey Milkovich, Comforting Ian Gallagher, Cute Kids, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mental Health Issues, Mickey Uses His Words, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-08-20 11:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 29,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenstar92/pseuds/Fallenstar92
Summary: Fallowing the events of "The Pieces Left Behind" with Mickey, Ian, and their family.





	1. Changing Events

Mickey had called his siblings the day after he and Ian talked outside their house, just wanting to get their perspectives on him meeting his biological father; to know if they thought it was a good idea or not. "At the end of the day, it's your choice, baby." Ian reminded Mickey for the fifteenth time that morning as he lifted Harlow over his head. How the Hell was Ian balancing playing with their daughter and comforting his irrationally emotional husband? How the Hell could he be so calm and still keep Mickey in mind?

"I know, but he just walked away... Why the fuck do I even wanna meet him?" Mickey asked, helping Max get an apple off the counter.

"Thanks, Dad." Max muttered, dashing off with his snack so his parents could continue talking.

"You wanna meet him 'cause you want answers, baby." Ian said, setting a giggling Harlow on her feet and scooping Cian up. "He's your father, even if he's not your Dad."

"Never had one of those." Mickey said sadly, watching Ian kiss Cian's chubby cheek. "Definitely didn't have one who loved me like you love these three fuckin' monsters." Mickey joked, picking his daughter up as she ran over to him. "What do you think, Ladybug? Should Daddy wanna meet his Dad?"

"Uhmm... Yes." Harlow decided, smoothing down Mickey's hair.

"Why's that?" Mickey asked, smiling at the beautiful little redhead in his arms.

"'Cause he's your Daddy, an' Daddy's do the wrong stuff, sometimes, but they love you." Harlow said, sounding wise beyond her years.

"Think she's got a point, Mick." Ian said, dropping one hand to rest on Max's head.

"So, you don't have the same Dad as Aunt Mandy and Uncle Iggy?" Max asked, taking another bite of his apple.

"No." Mickey said as he sat Harlow down, dreading having this conversation with his son.

"Dad?" Max asked, walking over to his father and hugging around his waist.

"What's up, Bud?" Mickey asked, patting Max's back.

"If he didn't want you, he's dumb; you're the best." Max muttered, which only served to melt Mickey's heart. He loved his kids so fucking much it hurt, and he couldn't imagine turning his back on any of them. Now he just needed to know how his own father could turn his back, knowing Mickey would be left at the mercy of Terry Milkovich.

 

"You should meet him, Mick; at least see what he's like." Mandy said, leaning against Ian as the three of them sat on the couch and Iggy sat in the armchair. Mickey was listening, but he kept his eyes on Mandy's two-year-old daughter and his own three children play in the floor.

"Yeah, man, he's gotta be better than fuckin' Terry." Iggy chimed in. Iggy had a point, but Mickey didn't know if that was the case.

"He knew Ma was pregnant and he walked away." Mickey deadpanned, feeling unhappy that the only possible upside Mikhail had was that he was better than a racist, homophobic, abusive piece of shit.

"Then tell him he's an asshole and knock his fuckin' lights out." Iggy replied with a shrug.

"Dad says we're not supposed to hit people." Max said, handing Harlow and Arya a crayon a piece before he handed Cian one of his blocks.

"Your Dad's right, Max; don't hit anyone." Mandy said, which shocked everyone; when the fuck had Mandy become the nonviolent type?

"I'm gonna meet him... I gotta know why." Mickey said, standing up and walking away from his family. He needed some time alone; he couldn't handle the way his siblings and Ian were looking at him.


	2. Life Changing Phone Call

Four days; it took Mickey four fucking days to work up the courage to use the phone number Sue had found and call Mikhail. He spent those four days pretending nothing in his life had changed, even with the weight of a block of lead sitting in his pocket in the form of the folded slip of paper with Mikhail's phone number scribbled on it. "Hey, Mick? I'm takin' the kids to school! You okay to drop Key off to Anne?" Ian called from the living room as Mickey got dressed for work.

"Yeah, I got him!" Mickey replied, hesitantly slipping the sheet of paper back in his pocket before exiting the bedroom to tell his husband and two eldest children goodbye. "I love you guys. Have good days." He said, dropping a kiss on each head of red curls and turning to kiss Ian. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Ian replied, pecking Mickey's lips one more time and ushering Max and Harlow out of the house.

"You ready to go see Miss Anne?" Mickey cooed to his toddler, sitting happily on the couch with a sippy cup of milk in one hand and his Mickey mouse in the other.

"Up, Dada?" Cian asked, holding his arms out for Mickey to pick him up.

"Up we go, handsome boy." Mickey said, picking his son up and perching him on his hip. "Be good, boys." He said to the dogs, patting each of their heads as he walked out of the house.

 

Mickey had decided to make the phone call he'd been dreading during the half hour he had for lunch; he needed to get it over with. After lighting a cigarette, he pulled out his phone, Mikhail's number, and dialed the phone before he had time to talk himself out of it.

 _"Hello?"_ A male voice with a thick Ukrainian accent answered the phone, stopping the flow of air to Mickey's lungs.

"H-hi... Is this Mikhail Honchar?" Mickey asked, already knowing the answer to that question.

 _"Yes. Can I help you?"_ Mikhail asked politely, which pissed Mickey off to an extent; why the fuck did he find the man who ditched him before he was even born polite?

"Do you remember Tatia... Tyshchenko?" Mickey had to stop himself from saying "Milkovich", but he knew the man would remember he had been involved in an affair with a married woman.

 _"Why are you asking about Tatia? Tatia has been dead for years."_ Mikhail no longer sounded polite; he sounded like a wounded man.

"My name's Mikhailo; Tatia Milkovich was my mom... I'm twenty-nine years old." Mickey said, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "And I think you might be my father."

 _"... What is your birthday?"_ Mikhail asked, clearly wondering if there was a possibility that Tatia had aborted his child and gotten pregnant, again, not long after.

"August tenth nineteen ninety-four." Mickey answered, honestly. "Look, I don't expect a damn thing after almost thirty years, but I wanted to let you know your kid's alive." Mickey was ready to hang up the phone, after that.

 _"Wait!"_ Mickey paused when he heard Mikhail shout, but he wasn't sure he wanted to listen.  _"I want to meet you."_

"I don't think I can do that." Mickey replied, checking the time on the watch Ian had bought him for his birthday, last year.

 _"Please... I need to meet my son."_ Mikhail begged, which had Mickey weighing out the pros and cons of meeting his biological father.

"I'll get back to you; I work fulltime and I got three kids." Mickey said, chewing his thumbnail.

 _"I have Onuky?"_ Mikhail asked, his voice conveying a mixture of shock and amazement.

"Two little boys and a little girl." Mickey confirmed. "Look, I gotta get back to work... I'll call when we can meet." With that, Mickey hung up the phone and finished his cigarette.

 

"Sounds like he didn't even know you were born." Ian commented as the family sat down to dinner, Mickey having just finished telling Ian about the phone call between himself and Mikhail.

"I don't think he did." Mickey said, wishing his mother was alive so he could ask her what had happened that day. "Iggy always said Ma was real happy before that shit... What if..." Mickey couldn't voice his thoughts; 'What if I was the reason she was depressed? What if I was the reason she got hooked on fuckin' drugs? What if I'm the reason my Mom's dead?'

Those thoughts kept swirling through Mickey's head until he felt Ian's hand being placed on top of his own. "Mick, none of that shit was your fault; you were a fuckin' baby. You didn't do anything wrong by bein' born." Ian said in a low, comforting voice. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you were born."

"Me, too!" Max chimed in, which made Mickey crack a small smile.

"And me!" Harlow added around a mouthful of chicken nugget.

"There are so many people who wouldn't be the same if you weren't here... Or who wouldn't be here, at all." The darkness in Ian's eyes reminded Mickey of the fact that Ian had-at one point-been ready to take his own life.

"I was the reason for that." Mickey quietly reminded the man he loved.

"Depression was the reason; you're why I kept goin' after that." Ian said, squeezing Mickey's hand just to remind him he was still-in fact-alive and by his side. "This isn't gonna be easy, but if anyone can do it? It's you." Mickey trusted Ian's words, only because he had the best group of people in his corner; he had the Gallaghers, his siblings, his children, and he had Ian. With them by his side? Mickey was sure he could do just about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Onuky-Grandchildren


	3. Needing Answers

When Mickey was a kid, he could hide his emotions fairly well; people assumed he was just another pissed off Southside kid. They didn't realize most of his anger stemmed from fear and self-loathing. Fuck, Mickey didn't even realize it, himself, until he turned twelve and started fantasizing about the redheaded boy in his gym class. Now-however-he couldn't hide his emotions to save his ass. Case in point; Ian knew the moment he woke up the morning Mickey had agreed to meet Mikhail that he was a nervous wreck.

"You need answers only he has, Mick." Ian reminded Mickey as they prepared breakfast for their children.

"Yeah, like why he left that day and never fuckin' came back." Mickey muttered angrily as he finished Cian's oatmeal. "The fuck reason could there be for that?"

"I can't tell you that. But I  _can_ tell you that if Clayton wanted to actually get to know me? I'd at least wanna show him I didn't need his ass." Ian replied as he plated up french toast for Max and Harlow. "Go meet him, show him some pictures of the kids, and tell him you made it outta that shit show without him bein' part of your life."

"I'd rather stay home with you and the kids on my day off." Mickey replied, scooping Cian up from where he'd been sitting in his playpen.

"I know, but this'll be good for you." Ian reminded Mickey, yet again, with a kiss to his cheek as he walked to the foot of the stairs. "Max! Harlow! Breakfast is ready!" He shouted up the stairs, earning cheers from their two eldest kids. Ian was right; he didn't need fucking Mikhail in his life, but he did want to show him that he hadn't turned out like Terry just because he'd been the one to raise him.

 

"Mikhailo!" A blond man with hazel eyes and the same icy pale skin, chin, nose, and smile as Mickey called out as Mickey walked into the restaurant  on the Northside of Chicago Mickey was meeting Mikhail in for lunch. Mickey took a breath to steady himself before walking over to the table Mikhail was seated at, awkwardly shaking his hand as he sat across from him. "You look so much like Tatia."

"I get that, a lot." Mickey replied, exhaling a relieved sigh when a peppy waitress approached the table.

"What can I get you guys to drink?" The peppy blonde girl asked Mickey and Mikhail.

"Iced tea, if you would be so kind." Mikhail requested, his old-school manners and accent making the girl blush and giggle.

"And you, sweetie?" The waitress-Who's name tag read "Mandy" which had Mickey thinking of his baby sister-asked Mickey, politely.

"Pepsi, thanks, Mandy." Mickey said, waiting for the waitress to walk away before he spoke to Mikhail. "I have questions, but I don't know what to fuckin' ask you first."

"If you'd like, I can explain why I left." Mikhail offered, looking slightly embarrassed and hurt.

"Go for it." Mickey said, sitting back with his arms crossed over his chest.

"When Terry came home, he was furious... We fought, but Terry was strong, and it didn't go well. He eventually told Tatia if she left, she could not take Vigo, and she said she would stay. Terry hit me again, and after that, I woke up outside. I called Tatia more times than I can count, and when she finally answered? She said she "got rid of dytyna" and never wanted to see me in her home, again.

"I begged my Tatia to come to me; to run with Vigo and come home with me. She said she wouldn't, and that she wanted to stay with yiyi cholovik." Mikhail sniffed and wiped his eyes as he took a deep breath. "I loved Tatia, but she no longer loved me."

"Iggy-Vigo, sorry-was there that day, you remember that?" Mickey asked, which earned him a nod from Mikhail. "He remembers screamin' and a a few loud noises then Ma cryin'... That's all he remembered, at first, and he'd forgot that for thirty years." Mickey said, nodding to Mandy as she sat their drinks down.

"Ready to order?" Mandy asked, looking between the two men.

"Caesar salad." Mikhail ordered, glancing at Mickey. "Vegetarian."

"Grilled chicken club." Mickey ordered, handing Mandy his menu. "I'm not." He said, which made Mikhail laugh. Mandy walked away with a smile on her face and Mickey continued to speak to Mikhail. "Anyway, he said Terry was still inside after you were gone. You don't gotta lie to me, Mikhail. I ain't lookin' for a fuckin' Dad at twenty-nine; I'm lookin' for answers."

"You must understand, Mikhailo, I wanted to be a father, but I could not take Vigo from Tatia." Mikhail said, looking away from his son, sadly. "So I had to make a choice; have my child and a miserable Tatia, or lose my child and Tatia get both of hers. So I left."

"Why were you gonna lie to my face? About my fuckin' mother?" Mickey asked bitterly.

"I told the story I wish was true." Mikhail sighed as he took a sip of his tea.

"Did you really think she got rid of me?" Mickey asked, looking down at the table.

"Yes; I did not believe Terry would raise another man's child." Mikhail answered, sounding completely honest. "I am sorry, Mikhailo; I thought of you, everyday... Tell me about your life; not with Terry, your life, now."

"I'm gay." Mickey started with, watching Mikhail for any sign of disgust. There wasn't any. "Damn, Terry tried to kill me over that. More than once." Mikhail looked sad, which gave Mickey some hope that this wasn't pointless.

"I got married almost five years ago, I'm a carrier, and we have three kids together; Our oldest son-Max-is nine, our daughter-Harlow-is four, and our youngest son-Cian-is gonna be two in August." Mickey said as he took three polaroid pictures-one of Max sitting on Ian's lap on Christmas morning with his glasses sliding down his nose, one of Harlow smiling and waving in her Merida costume, and the last one of Cian laughing and playing with his Mickey Mouse-that Mandy had taken out of his wallet and passed them to Mikhail. "The redhead with glasses is Max; the guy with him is my husband, Ian. The little redheaded girl in the Merida costume is Harlow. Max actually bought her that when we went to Disney World, last year."

"The little guy in the last one? That's Cian. He's the happiest kid, I swear." Mickey said, smiling at the pictures of his babies. "They're my world."

"They are beautiful." Mikhail rasped, smiling at his grandchildren's smiling faces. "You are very lucky, Mikhailo; never let go of those dorohi dity." Mikhail said as a warning. "They are far too important."

"Yeah. And... You can call me Mickey; no one calls me Mikhailo." Mickey said awkwardly, wondering if he could actually form a relationship with his biological father.

 

"So, I guess there's no chance Mandy's his?" Ian asked as Mickey sat on one of the barstools in the kitchen while Ian finished up the dishes from the kids' lunch.

"Not a chance; he walked away when Ma was pregnant with me and didn't look back." Mickey said, watching the way his husband moved with ease around the kitchen. "He told me he got married about twenty years ago, but after his wife miscarried three times she got her tubes tied; she died two years ago from cancer."

"Fuck. I can't imagine havin' to go on if I lost you with no chance to get my baby back." Ian sighed, moving around the counter and leaning back against it. "We gonna see your Dad at Christmas and shit like that, now?"

"Don't think we're there, yet, but I'm willin' to talk to him, again." Mickey replied, absentmindedly placing his hand on Ian's back.

"DAD! HARLOW STOLE MY GLASSES!" Max shouted down the stairs, clearly afraid to descend them without his glasses.

"I'M HARRY POTTER!" The heard Harlow yelling, causing both parents to roll their eyes.

"You help Max get down the stairs and I'll catch Harry Potter?" Mickey asked as he stood up, already used to their children's shenanigans.

"Yeah, I got it." Ian sighed, running up the stairs-taking them two at a time-to help his son as Mickey darted up the stairs to stop Harlow and retrieve Max's glasses.

"Harlow Rue Gallagher! Give me your brother's glasses!" Mickey yelled as Ian lead Max to the living room.

"At least you two are calm." Ian mumbled as Max laid down on the floor beside his brother, both staring at the Mickey Mouse cartoon on the TV, though Ian knew Max couldn't see it. Ian couldn't help smiling as Mickey handed Max his glasses and sat Harlow on the couch, adoring the amazing father his husband was without having a decent one to look up to. While he knew Mickey didn't need Mikhail in his life, Ian hoped he developed a relationship with him; Mickey deserved that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> dytyna-the baby  
> yiyi cholovik-her husband  
> dorohi dity-darling babies


	4. Parent Day

Life for the Gallagher family went back to normal after Mickey met Mikhail, and before Mickey and Ian knew it, it was "Parent Day" for Max's third grade class. Just like every year before, Mickey and Ian ensured they had the day off to spend with their son in his classroom, seeing the progress their little boy was making this school year. "Thank you parents for joining Misses Davis' third grade class for Parent Day!" Max's teacher-a tall, thin, forty year old woman with salt and pepper hair, olive skin, and brown eyes hidden behind thick glasses named Suzy Davis-exclaimed as she stood at the front of the classroom, earning a round of applause from the parents seated with their children.

"Today, our students will be reading essays they wrote about why they look up to their parents. To start us off, we have an essay that-for the first time in school history-won a third grader the school's award of excellence in writing; let's have round of applause for our own, Maxton Gallagher!" Suzy exclaimed, extending a hand to the shy redheaded boy who walked to the front of the classroom with his eyes focused on the piece of paper in his tiny hands. Ian and Mickey exchanged shocked expressions, neither one having been made aware of Max's award before this moment.

"Thank you, Misses Davis." Max said shyly, looking up from his essay to meet his parents' smiling faces, which seemed to calm the boy. "My Essay's title is: "My Parents, My Heroes."" Max cleared his throat before he began to read.

"Superheroes don't wear capes; they save lives with medicine, fire hoses, police cars, and by talking to them when they have a problems. You don't have to have super powers to be a real hero, and that's okay. I learned from my Dad and Papa what real heroes are, and how to be a good person. That's why my parents are my favorite superheroes.

"My Dad's name is Mickey Gallagher, and his job doesn't make him a hero; he's a construction worker, and that means he builds the buildings that help other people save lives. But he's a hero because he takes care of our whole family. I have migraines-which are really bad headaches that can make you get sick-and my Dad makes sure I always take my medicine, I eat right to keep me from getting them all the time, and he'll sit in the dark with me and hold ice packs on my neck when I get one. He also takes care of my Papa because he's bipolar; that means he can go from really happy and not getting any sleep, to being real sad and not getting out of bed.

"Dad makes sure Papa takes his medicine on time, that he goes to his doctor, and that he always talks about how he feels. Dad always makes sure me, my sister, and my brother feel happy and safe, and if anything makes us feel bad, he'll hold us and let us cry. When I was in kindergarten, a boy in my class' dad didn't like gay people, and he said stuff that scared me and made me feel really sad, but my Dad and Papa said that there's nothing wrong with loving who you love.

"The Dad got really mad, one day, and he threw our cubbies, and a flower pot hit my head. My Dad took me to the doctor to get stitches, and then stayed with me all day. I know a lot of people don't have a good Dad, and that's why I think mine is a hero.

"My Papa's name is Ian Gallagher, and his job does make him a hero; he's an EMT, so he helps save people before they get to a doctor. But his job isn't the only thing that makes Papa a hero; he loves all of us to the moon and back. He lost me and my Dad for four years, because my Dad was scared he wouldn't take care of himself, but he did; he took his medicine and he looked for us every day until he found us and made us a family, again. After that, he always made sure that me and Dad were always happy, safe, and that nothing could hurt us, and he did that for my brother and sister, too.

"When he's sick because of his Bipolar, he makes sure we always know that he'll be okay, and he never forgets to tell us he loves us or kiss us goodnight. He sees stuff at work that makes him sad, sometimes, but he always smiles when he sees us and has time to play with me, my brother, and my sister. He says we make him better, and he tells Dad all the time that they can do anything, together. He's a hero, because even when he's sad or sick, he puts us first.

"Just because a hero doesn't have a cape or a mask doesn't mean they're not a hero; it just means they're a hero in the real world. My parents are heroes in the real world, because they love their family and they do so much for us. And that is why, I look up to my Dad and Papa." Max finished reading-having brought tears to every adult in the room's eyes-and received more applause.

 

"You did so great, Chipmunk!" Mickey praised after all of the essays were finished, kneeling to hug his son. "You wrote that on your own?"

"Yeah." Max said, shyly. "Did you guys like it?"

"We loved it, Maxy." Ian said, picking the little boy up and kissing all over his face.

"Papa, stop!" Max laughed, his beautiful smile on full display.

"Ian, Mickey, can I talk to you two?" Suzy asked as she walked over to the Gallaghers, smiling and nodding to other parents as they left with their children.

"What's up?" Mickey asked, rubbing Max's back as the little boy showed Ian the trophy he'd received for his essay, that morning.

"The school is really impressed with Max's essay-I'm sure you realized it was far beyond what most children his age can do-and they wanted to offer him a spot in a writing summer camp." Suzy informed the parents, shocking them more than his award win that morning. "They feel like he's a very talented writer and it would be a waste not to nurture that talent."

"That's... That's unbelievable!" Ian exclaimed, beyond proud of his son. "What do you think, Max?"

"I don't know... It might be fun." Max muttered, avoiding eye contact. "I don't wanna be away, all summer."

"There's a day camp for the younger children admitted to the program if that would help you." Suzy offered.

"Can we have a few days to talk to Max before we make a choice?" Mickey asked, patting Max's back, comfortingly. He knew his son was scared, but he did have talent, and he shouldn't waste it.

 

"Can you believe that?" Ian asked Mickey as they got ready for bed, both still amazed with what Max had written.

"I knew he had an essay to write, but he didn't let me read it, 'cause he said it was a surprise. I didn't think he'd write somethin' like that; made us sound fuckin' awesome." Mickey agreed, yawning as he sat on the bed.

"We are; we work full time while raisin' three awesome ass kids." Ian pointed out, crawling into the bed with Mickey. "He really is a good writer; to do somethin' like that at nine? That's fuckin' amazing!"

"Always knew he was smart." Mickey commented.

"He is; he's so smart and just... So sweet. God, how is he such a great kid?" Ian sighed, laying his head on Mickey's lap. "Our son's amazing."

"He's the best." Mickey said, honestly, so proud of his baby boy. "Move so I can lay down, asswipe." Mickey ordered, wiggling his legs to get Ian to move.

"Fine!" Ian grunted, scooting over just long enough for Mickey to lay down before resting his head on the brunette's chest. "Goodnight, baby. Love you."

"Love you, too." Mickey yawned, falling asleep with the feeling of Ian's breath fanning out over his chest.


	5. Camp Chat

Ian never had the chance to go to Summer Camp as a child-there was never enough money in the Gallagher household for anything that wasn't essential to survival-so when he heard Max was being offered a spot in an exclusive writing Summer Camp? He thought they should jump at the chance. "This shit looks amazing, Mick." Ian said as he looked at the website for the camp Max's teacher had told them about.

"He's too scared to spend the whole Summer away from home." Mickey replied, flipping through one of the brochures Suzy had given them. "The Day camp thing might work out, though; spend a few hours at the camp everyday, then come home."

"Think we could talk him into doin' that?" Ian asked, remembering Max saying several times on the way home that he didn't want to go to a camp and be away from his family all Summer.

"Probably; as long as he knows he'll come home everyday." Mickey said, setting the brochures aside. "God, he's growin' up so fuckin' fast."

"Hard to believe he's gonna be ten, soon." Ian agreed, closing the tab he'd opened to the camp's website and quickly finding the first picture he'd ever taken of Max. He felt tears in his eyes-not from sadness, but from the overwhelming love he felt for his amazing little boy-as he looked at the smiling four-year-old with his arms around Hyde; how the Hell had it been almost six years since this photo was taken?

"God, we've got a kid who's almost ten. How the fuck is this our lives?" Mickey groaned as he threw himself across Ian's lap.

"We had unprotected sex when you weren't on birth control about... eleven years ago." Ian deadpanned, causing Mickey to actually snort.

"You're an asshole." Mickey chuckled, getting more comfortable as he laid in Ian's lap, some dumbass action movie playing on the TV and both baby monitors sitting on the coffee table to alert them if any of their three children woke up.

"Kind of weird that we're still awake after the kids went to bed and we're not naked." Ian commented, playing with Mickey's hair as the brunette rested comfortably on his legs.

"You complainin'?" Mickey asked, not wishing to move. He loved sex-fuck did he love sex-but he hadn't really been in the mood for the past few weeks. He knew Ian understood that he had a lot on his mind, so he wasn't too worried about explaining it to the redhead.

"Nah, I like bein' able to spend time with my baby. Just pointing out that we've grown up, a lot; eleven years ago if we were alone fucking would be the first thing on our minds. Now? We just wanna be together." Ian said soothingly, still playing with Mickey's hair.

 

"So is Max gonna go to Camp?" Fiona asked Mickey as the two of them prepared dinner for the weekly Gallagher/Milkovich family get together.

"Ian thinks he'd have fun if he went-I think he's right-but Max is kinda scared." Mickey replied as he effortlessly chopped Chives and topped the lasagna with them.

"It's just a day camp, right?" Fiona asked as she put the lasagna in the oven.

"There's a day camp and a sleep away camp; if he goes, he's doin' the day camp." Mickey answered, taking a drink of his beer. "You shoulda heard his essay; his didn't even sound like he was in the same grade as the rest of the kids in his class."

"He's always been a smart kid." Fiona commented, taking a drink of her own beer. "I mean, the kid started readin' at, what, five?"

"Yeah, about." Mickey said with a nod, blindly stopping Harlow as she started running through the kitchen. "Don't run in the house."

"Sorry, Daddy. Can I play outside?" Harlow asked, tracing the letters tattooed on Mickey's left hand.

"Stay where Daddy and Auntie Fi can see you." Mickey said in agreement. Watching his daughter walk out the back door and start running around with Hyde and Jake.

"She's so damn energetic." Fiona laughed as she watched her niece attempt to play tag with the two dogs.

"Our crazy kid." Mickey agreed, turning towards the living room as Ian descended the stairs with Cian on his hip-pulling on Ian's ear-and Max hanging off his back. "Okay, maybe they're all crazy."

"Maybe just a little." Fiona mused, watching her brother lean backwards to deposit Max onto the armchair and pretend to "eat" Cian's little face.

 

"Dad?" Max called during dinner, drawing Mickey's attention to his son as the whole Gallagher family ate their lasagna and talked over each other.

"Yeah, Chipmunk?" Mickey asked, wiping pasta sauce off Cian's chin as the baby continued to happily eat.

"Can I go to camp? I don't wanna stay, but... It could be fun." Max said shyly, looking down as the family went silent.

"Yeah. Of course, baby." Mickey replied, surprised that Max had changed his mind about Camp. "We'll get you signed up on Monday."

"You're gonna love it, Maxy!" Lip cheered, patting his nephew's back.

"I better get free books when you're a famous author." Mandy said, winking at her nephew, lovingly.

"Hey, he's givin' his Uncle Iggy free shit if he gives it to anyone, right?" Iggy asked, making Max blush.

"I like to write, but... I wanna be a fire fighter so I can help people." Max admitted.

"You'll be a great fire fighter, kid." Carl praised. "You'll be helpin' your Papa and me at emergencies in no time."

"It's "your Papa and I" Uncle Carl." Max corrected politely.

"You just got owned by a third-grader." Debbie laughed heartily.

"I think you'll love Summer Camp, Max." Liam said quietly, offering his nephew gentler comfort than the rest of the loud family.

"We're so proud of you, baby boy." Ian said as he stood up, kissing Max's hair as the family applauded the child. Mickey and Ian were so happy for their son, and their family seemed to agree that the boy was destined to do great things.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to edit this chapter, because I just realized I accidently erased Mickey answering Max. Anyway, leave me some comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	6. Because I Got You, Brother

Mickey could tell Mandy was dealing with something; she'd stopped wearing makeup, dressed in sweats and hoodies instead of tight shirts and jeans, never even brushed her hair-just pulled it into a messy bun-and had stopped joking with or hanging all over Ian. Mickey understood that people tended to relax when it came to their appearance after having children, but Mandy had still been her usual, over-the-top self until roughly three months ago. "Hey, Mands?" Mickey called as he walked into his living room with a slip of paper in his hands one morning when Mandy was visiting while Ian and Lip took Arya and Cian for their check-ups with their pediatrician.

"What's up?" Mandy asked without looking away from whatever movie she was currently watching while Mickey tried to keep an eye on his children in the backyard and keep his sister company.

"This is Doctor Marshall's number; I don't know what's goin' on with you, but he helped me." Mickey said, handing his sister the slip of paper.

"Are you seriously givin' me your fuckin' shrink's number?" Mandy asked bitterly, turning to glare at her brother, coldly.

"Yeah, I did, 'cause you need this." Mickey said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm not you, Mickey; I don't deal with my shit by starvin' myself or tryin' to kill myself!" Mandy shouted, instantly regretting it when she noticed Max, Harlow, and the two dogs standing in the doorway of Mickey and Ian's kitchen. "Mick-"

"Fuck you, Mandy. Get the fuck outta my house." Mickey said with an eerie calm, walking over to his children and kneeling in front of the two little redheads.

"Daddy?" Max mumbled softly, shocking the fuck out of Mandy; Max hadn't called Mickey "Daddy" in over a year. "What's she talking about?"

"Nothing, baby boy. You two go wash your hands; I'm gonna make lunch before Papa and Key get home." Mickey instructed his children, kissing each of their foreheads and ushering them into the bathroom.

"Mickey, I'm so-" Mandy was cut off again by Mickey rushing over to her and glaring at her.

"You're what? You're sorry?! You just told my fuckin' kids I tried to kill myself, Amanda!" Mickey nearly shouted, though Mandy could tell he was keeping the volume of his voice low enough that Max and Harlow didn't hear him.

"What's goin' on in here?" Ian asked as he entered the house with Cian in his arms and Lip-carrying his own daughter-behind him.

"Take her home, Lip; I don't wanna see her fuckin' face, anymore." Mickey ordered his brother-in-law before disappearing into the kitchen.

"What did you do?" Ian asked his sister-in-law when he realized Mickey had turned his back on everyone so they wouldn't notice the tears in his eyes.

"I said somethin' really fuckin' stupid and the kids heard me." Mandy admitted, watching Max and Harlow exit the bathroom and instantly run to their carrier father's side.

"What did you say to my husband, Amanda Olena?!" Ian demanded, causing Mandy to wince; Ian  _never_ called her "Amanda" or used her middle name.

"I... He gave me Doctor Marshall's number, and I snapped; I said I didn't deal with shit by starvin' myself or attempting suicide." Mandy said sheepishly.

"My kids heard that?!" Ian shouted, making Cian whimper in his arms. "Papa's sorry, Mousy. Go eat with Max and Harlow, okay?" His voice was so much softer as he spoke to Cian while placing the boy on the ground. Ian waited until Cian was safely in the kitchen with Mickey before turning back to Mandy with a cold expression.

"Why the fuck would you say that shit to Mickey, at all, let alone when there's a chance Max and Harlow could hear you?!" Ian demanded, angrily.

"I was pissed off! Why the fuck would he give me his fuckin' therapist's number?!" Mandy shouted in her own defense.

"Because you need it, Mandy." Lip said, finally breaking his stunned silence. "Something's goin' on with you, Mandy, and Mickey was trying to help you... I'll call you, later, Ian; hug Mick and the kids for me." With that, Lip lead his wife out of the house.

 

"Clingin' to Max, silent treatment, panic attacks, or all the above?" Fiona asked as she walked into Mickey and Ian's house, shrugging off her coat.

"What're you talkin' about?" Ian asked, not sure what his sister was doing in Dolton.

"Lip called me and explained the shit Mandy pulled. So, best friend to the rescue." Fiona explained, looking around for any sign of Mickey. "Where is he?"

"Cian refused to nap unless Mickey laid down with him, so they're in our room." Ian informed his sister.

"Max and Harlow?" She asked, noticing the two elder children weren't in the living room, either.

"Den." Ian said as he went back to the pamphlets he'd been looking through when Fiona entered the house. Mickey and Ian had recently decided to turn the Den-a room they never used except during Christmas-into a play room for the kids so they could still keep an eye on them when they wanted to play inside. They had set up a little "reading corner" for Max, put the kitchen set Harlow had gotten for her birthday last year in the room, and had a toy box for each child in there.

"What're you readin'?" Fiona asked, taking a seat on the couch next to her brother.

"Max's Neurologist gave us some shit to read about Migraines before Max starts camp; just tryin' to absorb it all." Ian said, eyes still on the paper in his hands.

"Think I'd wake Key up if I went in to check on Mick?" Fiona asked, seeing that Ian was in "worried Dad mode" and wouldn't be great company.

"Nah; he sleeps like a fuckin' rock." Ian chuckled, glancing towards the Den to ensure Harlow wasn't climbing the bookcase or something. Thank God she was just laying on the ground playing with her dolls.

 

"Hey, gorgeous." Fiona whispered as she walked into Mickey and Ian's bedroom as Mickey laid on his side, watching Cian sleep peacefully on his back, his chubby arms over his head.

"Hey, Fi." Mickey replied, rubbing Cian's chubby stomach. "Lip or Ian?" Fiona knew what Mickey was talking about; he was asking who called her.

"Lip. He's so fuckin' sorry Mandy said that shit." Fiona whispered, gently sitting down on Ian's side of the bed. "He told her to get off her high-horse and apologize for ever bringin' it up 'cause you've come a long way from there."

"She's always had an attitude problem; I'm used to her shit, at this point." Mickey said, shocking Fiona by actually sounding calm.

"You seem good." Fiona noted, watching Mickey's face to see if he was faking it.

"I told her what I thought, made sure my kids were okay, and moved on; I learned that shit from years of therapy." Mickey explained, softly.

"I'm proud of you, little brother." Fiona praised, feeling an amazing sense of pride at how well Mickey was dealing with his emotions, these days. Mickey may not be her brother by blood, but he was as much her family as anyone else, damn it.


	7. Confessions

Mandy knew she could sometimes be a bit of a bitch, but she'd never meant to hurt Mickey; she loved her big brother to the moon and back. The problem came from the fact that she was fucking jealous; Ian never made him feel like he was choosing someone else over Mickey, he had three perfect fucking kids, Ian still looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing the redhead had ever seen, and now? Now he knew he didn't have an ounce of Terry Milkovich's tainted blood in his veins. Why did Mickey get everything Mandy wanted without having to try?

"Thanks for lettin' me come back." Mandy said awkwardly as Mickey opened the door to his house a week later, Cian standing at his side with his chubby fists clutching the leg of Mickey's jeans.

"Ian said I needed to let you talk." Mickey said, dropping his hand to Cian's back to lead the toddler away from the door.

"Where are Max and Harlow?" Mandy asked, noticing her oldest nephew and her niece weren't in the room.

"Showin' Fiona the Thanksgiving crafts they did at school." Mickey explained, glad Fiona had come over and offered to keep Max and Harlow busy. "I don't know what the fuck made you say that shit, Mandy. And with my kids here? That's the worst fuckin' thing you could've done to me."

"Can you have Fiona come get Cian, please?" Mandy asked, knowing this was going to turn into a screaming match.

"I'll have Ian take him; he's back from walkin' Jake." Mickey said, looking down at his phone. Mandy nodded, remembering Ian saying they tried to walk Jake once a day after the Veterinarian said he was at risk of developing arthritis after the brick incident. 

"Go on, Jakey-boy." Ian said, unhooking the dog's leash and patting his back and watching him dart up the stairs. "Hey, honey." Ian greeted his husband with a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey, babe. Can you take Key upstairs and hang out with Fiona and the kids?" Mickey requested, lifting Cian off the ground and passing him to Ian.

"Yeah. Let me know if you need me, okay?" Ian glanced at Mandy, but his attention was primarily on his husband.

"Yeah. Love you, baby." Mickey agreed, pecking Cian on his cheek.

"Love you." With that, Ian was heading up the stairs.

"What happened, Mandy? Why would you say that shit?" Mickey asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"'Cause you get everything! You got the perfect husband, the perfect kids, the perfect house, and you're not stuck with Terry as your father!" Mandy shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Why the fuck do you get everything?"

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?! Did you forget that Ian cheated on me? That he fuckin' broke up with me for tryin' to take care of him? That I was alone when I had Max? Or that I've been goin' to a fuckin' therapist for years?! We're good, now, but we went through our shit, same as you!

"And as for fuckin' Mikhail? He left; he walked away when he knew Ma was pregnant with his kid, and left me with Terry!" Mickey shouted, his voice becoming hoarse by the end. "So get the fuck over yourself, Amanda!"

"I came over to apologize!" Mandy yelled.

"Hell of an apology." Mickey scoffed.

"So what? You're just done with me?" Mandy asked, bitterly.

"No; I wanna know what's wrong with you, and I wanna help you 'cause you're my sister and I love you." Mickey said, shaking his head as he spoke.

"It's this bullshit! You're the love of Ian's life, your kids fuckin' adore you, and you got a chance to have a real Dad and I get nothing!" Mandy shouted.

"So you're jealous? All this shit is 'cause you're jealous?" Mickey asked, wanting to laugh at how childish it was. "Mandy, you're a fuckin' adult; act like it."

"I want something good." Mandy whispered with tears in her eyes.

"You got your Gallagher, you got a beautiful fuckin' daughter, and you got outta the Southside; you got good shit goin' in your life." Mickey reminded Mandy. "Come 'ere." Mickey ordered, pulling his sister into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you." Mandy sniffed, hugging Mickey tightly. Maybe she would call Doctor Marshall; what's the worst that could happen?

 

Somewhere in the back of Mickey's mind, he knew what had happened with Mandy had upset Ian and Fiona more than himself. He hadn't-however-realized how angry Max was with his Aunt until he descended the stairs and saw her hugging his carrier father. "Why is Mandy here, Dad?" Max asked, surprising both Mickey and Mandy by not referring to her as "Aunt Mandy", as well as the tone of his voice.

"She came over to apologize for what happened last week." Mickey said, hoping it would make his son less angry.

"She can't just say sorry for that! She hurt you, Dad! She said a bunch of... Shit that wasn't true!" Max yelled, actually causing Mandy to gasp and Mickey's jaw to drop; Max had  _never_ cursed, before.

"Maxton Krew Gallagher, watch your mouth." Mickey warned, turning around to face his son.

"You wouldn't leave us! She's lying!" Max shouted hysterically. "You wouldn't leave me!"

"Max..." Mickey could see tears in Max's big blue eyes, so he rushed over to comfort his baby. "Max, baby, I was in a bad place a few times, but you're right; I wouldn't leave you guys." It was true; Max broke him out of his numb stupor and saved his life. Max was his grounding force when everything else went to shit.

"... It was true?" Max asked, completely heartbroken.

"A long time ago, I... Thought about it, but I didn't  _try,_ it was just a thought. But you stopped it, Chipmunk; I couldn't leave you." Mickey rushed to explain, hoping to stop the flow of tears down Max's face.

"You were just sad, then?" Max asked through hiccups and sobs.

"Yeah, baby. But I never did anything, I promise." Mickey swore, pulling Max into a hug.

"Don't leave me, Daddy." Max sobbed into Mickey's shoulder.

"Never." Mickey promised, kissing Max's hair as Ian darted down the steps, having realized Max had snuck off. 'I got him.' He mouthed to his husband, barely even seeing Mandy sneak out of the house. He just continued to hold his baby boy and whisper comforting words to him as he cried, quickly being joined by Ian; they hated to see their babies sad, and Max needed them, right now.


	8. Never Leave You All Alone

Mickey was so worried that Max would look at him differently after he discovered what Mandy had said was true, but he seemed to look up to his carrier father, more; it was if he could see the strength Mickey had to overcome everything. He did, however, seem to cling to him just a bit more. "Time for bed, Max." Ian whispered as he walked into the living room after tucking Cian and Harlow in, spotting Max curled up against a sleeping Mickey-who was clearly emotionally exhausted-on the couch.

"Can... Can I sleep with you and Dad, tonight?" Max asked, laying his head over Mickey's heart, reassuring himself it was still beating.

"Yeah... Yeah, you can sleep with us, bud." Ian replied, leaning over the couch to wake Mickey up so the three of them could go to bed. "Baby, wake up; we're gonna go to bed with Max."

"Okay." Mickey murmured, sounding almost drunk as he heaved himself up and fallowing Ian to their room with Max holding his hand.

 

"So, Amanda, can you tell me why yo believe you feel so hostile towards your brother?" Doctor Marshall asked Mandy twenty minutes into their session.

"I don't know!" Mandy snapped, sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest. "He got the guy, his kids listen, and he has this new Dad who wants to be part of his life; it's not fuckin' fair!"

"You're married, correct?" Doctor Marshall asked, not seeming phased by Mandy's outburst.

"Yeah." Mandy answered with a nod.

"Tell me about your husband." Doctor Marshall prompted, looking up from his notes to meet Mandy's eyes.

"Lip's great; he can come off as an asshole, but he cares about his family-his brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, our daughter, and me-more than anything. He wanted to come with me, today-and when I went to see Mickey, yesterday-but I told him I needed to do this shit, on my own." Mandy explained, fiddling with her hands.

"How old is your daughter?" Doctor Marshall asked.

"She just turned three." Mandy said, smiling despite herself when she thought about Arya. "Her name's Arya Caylin Gallagher."

"Tell me about her." The Therapist prompted, again.

"She's so funny; she acts exactly like Harlow-Mickey's daughter-it's scary, sometimes. She dances around and says the most random shit and it just cracks me up. She's my little mini me, and I fuckin' love her." Mandy described, feeling a familiar warmth in her chest that always comes from her baby girl being close to her.

"It sounds like you have a pretty good family." Doctor Marshall commented.

"Yeah." Mandy agreed with a sniff.

"So why do you think Mickey's is so much better?" Doctor Marshall asked.

"I wanted Ian, first; he was my knight in shining armor, and I wanted him to love me-to really love me-but he fell for my brother." mandy admitted, shyly.

"So the jealousy stems from Ian?" Doctor Marshall asked.

"I guess... I mean, I love Lip-I really fuckin' love him-but Ian's tall, he's handsome, he's sweet, funny, and if he loves you? It's forever. I used to think Mickey didn't deserve Ian." Mandy tried to explain, but she felt ashamed for feeling this way.

"And now?" He asked, tapping his pen against his notepad.

"I think they fit together, pretty well." Mandy decided, feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders.

"I think we've made some good progress today, Amanda. Let's meet the same time, next week." Mandy nodded in agreement with Doctor Marshall's request before standing up and leaving the office.

 

"She tell you how her session with Doctor Marshall went?" Ian asked his husband as they drove away from the kids' school towards Chicago to visit Fiona, all three kids distracted with toys in the back seat of Ian's SUV.

"Haven't talked to her; figure she'll call me when she's ready to talk." Mickey replied, passing Cian's stuffed Mickey Mouse back to the youngest of their three children when he tossed it at his carrier father.

"Think she'll be okay?" Ian asked, glancing at Mickey out of the corner of his eye.

"It's Mandy; she'll fight like Hell 'till she's back to herself." Mickey answered without a hint of doubt in his voice.

"You're right." Ian said with a nod. He knew Mandy was strong-almost as strong as her older brother-but he still worried about her; she had been his best friend since he was fifteen-years-old. "Must be a Tyshchenko thing."

"What do you mean?" Mickey asked, turning his head to look at his husband.

"As much shit as you've been through in your life, you keep fighting." Ian replied, taking his right hand off the steering wheel and reaching over to grip Mickey's hand. "Mandy's strong as Hell, too, so it must have come from your Mom."

"Maybe." Mickey replied, knowing his mother had fought for years to stay strong for her children, and had just lost herself by trying to feel a little better. He just wished he could go back in time and tell her it  _does_ get better; that life gets easier.


	9. I promise, I'll Do Better

Being a parent was a challenge, some days, but for the most part? Mickey fucking loved being a father to his three beautiful children. "What are we not gonna do when everyone gets here for dinner, Ladybug?" Mickey asked his daughter as he helped her tie her shoes on Thanksgiving.

"Don't say bad words." Harlow replied, playing with the frills on her sweater.

"What happens if Daddy and Papa find out you said a bad word?" Mickey asked, having already gone over this with his child more than once.

"I don't get no pie." Harlow replied, a pout already on her face.

"That's right; bad words mean no pie." Mickey replied with a nod, patting Harlow's knee as he stood up. "Max, what're you gonna do?" Mickey asked his son as the boy fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

"I'm gonna be nice to Mandy." Max muttered, refusing to look at his carrier father as he pushed his glasses back into place.

"And why is that?" Mickey asked, glancing at Ian as he walked down the stairs with Cian in his arms.

"Because Papa says when you're mad and you let it out, your anger gets more power." Max replied, having been through this almost as many times as Harlow and the "No Bad Words" speech.

"Exactly." Ian praised, setting Cian down and letting the toddler run around. "You're too nice to let it win, Max."

 

"How's therapy goin', Mandy?" Fiona asked as the Gallagher/Milkovich/Ball family sat around the table in Mickey and Ian's house. Fiona was still as pissed off at Mandy as Max was, and wasn't letting go of what she'd said to Mickey with Harlow and Max so close by.

"Good; workin' through some shit with Doctor Marshall that I didn't think I needed to talk about." Mandy replied, seemingly calmer than she'd been just three weeks ago.

"You know what made you say that shit to Mickey, yet?" Fiona asked, causing Mickey to glare at his sister-in-law/best friend; if she kept this shit up all day, how the fuck would Mickey and Ian keep Max from getting angry with his aunt?

"Fiona-" Mandy cut her brother off by shaking her head, not looking put-off in the least.

"It's fine, Mick... I was just jealous and actin' like a little brat." Mandy explained shyly, though Mickey knew Doctor Marshall; he probably had Mandy going back through all of her worst memories to find the root cause of her jealousy and anger. "I am so fuckin' sorry, Mick."

"I know." Mickey replied, noting that Lip had kept an arm around Mandy all through dinner.

"Daddy? I didn't say no bad words!" Harlow gasped as she looked down at her empty plate.

"Good job, Ladybug." Mickey replied, picking up both Harlow and Max's empty plates.

"I get pie, right?" Harlow asked, hopefully.

"You bribe your damn kids?" Carl asked through a laugh.

"Sometimes you have to." Debbie chimed in, picking up Franny's empty plate.

"What happened with Mick and Mandy?" Kev asked, earning an elbow to the ribs from Vee and a glare from Ian. "What?"

"If Mickey wanted to talk about it, he would've." Vee stated simply.

"I can help you get the pies, Mick." Lip offered, standing up with Arya, Mandy, and his own empty plates in his hands before following Mickey to the kitchen. "Thank you."

"For what?" Mickey asked, not sure why Lip was thanking him.

"I tried to talk to her so many times about whatever's goin' on with her I thought I'd lose my voice." Lip admitted. "Doctor Marshall's really helped. So thank you."

"She's still my baby sister; even when I'm pissed at her, I got her back." Mickey replied simply.

"Uncle Mickey, can I help?" Franny asked as ran into the kitchen.

"Can you carry this for me, Little Red?" Mickey asked, passing his niece a pint of vanilla ice cream.

"Yes!" Franny shouted, walking back to the dining room with hilarious seriousness.

"You were supposed to wait for us, Franny!" Amy gasped when she saw her friend walking back into the dining room.

"Yeah! We wanted to help Uncle Mickey!" Gemma agreed, making Lip and Mickey laugh from where they were still standing in the kitchen.

"This is gonna be my life soon, too, isn't it?" Lip asked with a smirk still on his face as he heard Ian, Liam, and Kev trying to explain that Amy and Gemma could help Ian do dishes, later.

"Yep." Mickey replied, easily, carrying the Apple pie Debbie brought over into the dining room to serve the kids.

 

"I ate so damn much." Ian groaned as he flopped onto the couch next to Mickey once everyone left, completely amazed that all three kids were still able to run around after so much food.

"Me it!" Cian giggled, chasing his brother down as they continued their game of tag.

"No runnin' inside!" Mickey called, too full to move.

"Sorry, Daddy!" Three little voices-with Cian's being slightly butchered on the word "sorry"-called back.

"Ever wish you had that much energy?" Ian asked, laying his head on Mickey's shoulder.

"Fuck no; I like sleepin'." Mickey replied, wrapping his arm around Ian.

"Yeah, good point." Ian chuckled, watching Max pretending to be the "King" as Cian's "Dragon" roared at Harlow's "Princess" as he "fought" Max.

"At least they get along." Mickey mused, knowing he and Mandy had moments of completely hating each other as children.

"And that Max is willin' to play with Harlow and Key all the time." Ian supplied, knowing Max didn't enjoy these games as much as his siblings did.

"They're not so bad." Mickey stated, watching Cian "fall" to the ground as Max celebrated. Yeah, they were pretty damn great.


	10. A Wonderful Christmas Time

"What are you and Ian doing with your children for Christmas?" Mikhail asked Mickey as they sat on Mikhail's couch just three days before Max's tenth birthday.

"Probably what we do, every year; Dinner with Ian's family on Christmas Eve, open presents with the kids on Christmas morning, then spend the whole day at home with them." Mickey replied, checking his phone when he heard the familiar ringtone he'd set for when Max would facetime him from his tablet. "It's Max." Was Mickey's only explanation before accepting the call.

 _"Hi, Dad!"_ Max happily exclaimed, smiling at his father.

"Hey, Chipmunk. Where's Papa?" Mickey asked, catching Mikhail smiling at him out of the corner of his eye.

 _"takin' Cian to the bathroom; he hasn't had an accident all day."_ Max informed Mickey, clearly proud of his baby brother.

"That's awesome! Your sister still in bed?" Mickey asked, knowing Harlow could easily sleep the day away on Saturdays.

 _"No, she's right here... Harlow! It's Daddy!"_ Max shouted, angling his tablet so Mickey could see Harlow sitting on the living room floor with Jake's head in her lap.

 _"Hi, Daddy! I miss you!"_ Harlow chirped, blowing kisses at Mickey.

"Daddy misses you, too, Ladybug. You bein' good for Papa?" Mickey asked his mischievous little girl.

 _"Yes. We played tag and Max let me win!"_ Harlow giggled, crawling on to the couch beside her older brother. 

"Sounds fun..." Mickey said, biting his lip as he contemplated going through with his choice. "Hey, Max, get back in frame; I want you two to meet someone."

"Mikhailo..." Mikhail gasped, completely shocked that Mickey was moving closer to him and angling his phone so Mikhail could see the two little redheaded children.

"This is my Dad, Mikhail. Say hi, guys." Mickey said, smiling reassuringly at his eldest two children.

 _"Hi! I'm Harlow; I'm five, I like purple, and I have a puppy named Jake. Do you have any puppies?"_ Harlow asked, waving at Mikhail as her brother tried not to laugh.

"I am Mikhail; I am fifty-six, I also like purple, and I do not have a puppy, but I have kitty named Kot. He is bald." Mikhail said, reaching out to pet the-as Mickey had deemed the animal-creepy ass cat.

 _"I'm Max; I'm gonna be ten on Tuesday, I like grey, and I have a dog named Hyde."_ Max said, pushing his glasses up his nose. _"I like to write, and I wanna be a fire fighter when I grow up."_

"Your Daddy has said that you are a very talented writer." Mikhail praised, making Max blush.

 _"What does Daddy say about me?"_ Harlow asked, her dimpled smile on full display.

"He says that you are very funny and that you can always make people smile." Mikhail relayed, pressing his finger to his lips to make the girl feel like she was being let in on a secret. Mickey watched Max and Harlow animatedly fill their grandfather in on their lives, enjoying seeing Max and Harlow so jovial.

 

"They talked about meetin' their "Grandpa Mike" until you got home." Ian whispered to Mickey as they watched Max read  _"How The Grinch Stole Christmas"_ to his brother and sister.

"Wasn't sure I was ever gonna introduce him to the kids." Mickey admitted, letting out a contented sigh as Ian wrapped his long arms around Mickey's slender waist.

"What made you change your mind?" Ian asked, resting his chin on Mickey's shoulder.

"I can't be scared of shit my whole life." Mickey replied with a shrug. "I got over bein' scared of Terry, of bein' gay, and that you'd leave me; I had to get over bein' scared of Mikhail meetin' our kids... He's not Terry."

"I'm so proud of you, Mick." Ian whispered in Mickey's ear. Mickey had grown so much since their days spent fucking in the cooler at the Kash-N-Grab, and-Ian thought-he loved him more and more as he grew.

 

"Nash khlopchyk dyvnyy, moya lyubov." Mikhail whispered to the tombstone in front of him, tracing his fingers over the words carved into the stone.

_"Tatia Katerina Milkovich_

_October 23rd 1972-September 20th 2002_

_Loving mother, wife, sister, and friend._

_Forever in our hearts."_

"Vy budete hordi, dorohi." Mikhail sighed, feeling tears in his eyes as he looked at the photograph of Tatia-her left arm around Iggy, her right around Mickey, and Mandy, dressed in her Christening gown, in her lap-smiling at the camera set inside the grave marker for the love of his life.

"YA povynen buv vidpovisty na telefon tiyeyi nochi." Mikhail sniffed, feeling guilt taking over him.

"Mind tellin' me what the fuck that means?" Mikhail snapped around at the voice, finding a blond man, standing several feet away with his arms crossed. "Name's Iggy. You might remember me."

"What are you doing here?" Mikhail questioned, slowly standing up.

"Come here every Saturday and on Holidays to see Ma. Now, tell me what the fuck you meant when you said you shoulda answered the phone." Iggy seethed, glaring at the man who abandoned his brother and mother.

"We should talk." Mikhail said, walking out of the cemetery with Iggy close behind him. This would be a long night for both men.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Kot-Cat  
> Nash khlopchyk dyvnyy, moya lyubov-Our boy is amazing, my love.  
> Vy budete hordi, dorohi.-You would be proud, Darling.  
> YA povynen buv vidpovisty na telefon tiyeyi nochi.-I should have answered the phone, that night.


	11. Easier Than Telling The Truth

"Just fuckin' tell me what you were talkin' about." Iggy ordered as he sat down across from Mikhail at some shitty little twenty-four hour diner, waiting for an explanation from the older man.

"You must understand, Vigo, that Tatia and I were madly in love when we were young. But-when she chose to stay with Terry-I could not bare to think of her... So, when she called me on September nineteenth, I did not answer. She left me a message saying she needed to see me; needed to tell me something important. By the time I had planned to call her, I found her obituary." Mikhail explained shyly.

"Mick know she called you?" Iggy asked, sitting back with his arms crossed over hid chest.

"I could never tell Mikhailo." Mikhail sighed, looking down at his hands.

"So you're a chicken shit." Iggy scoffed, pissed off for his baby brother; how many times could this guy destroy Mickey's trust?

"Please do not tell Milhailo, Vigo; it would end our relationship." Mikhail begged, looking pleading at Iggy.

"I won't, 'cause you're gonna do it." Iggy stated calmly as he stood up and exited the diner. Mikhail knew he had to call Mickey... But he'd wait until tomorrow.

 

"She called you?" Mickey asked, clenching his fists where they rested in the pockets of his coat, wishing they weren't in a park full of families looking at Christmas lights so he could punch the motherfucker's teeth down his throat. When Mikhail had called him that morning saying that he needed to see him, Mickey hadn't thought twice about telling Mikhail to meet him at the park during the tree-lighting ceremony he and Ian were taking the kids to. But now? He regretted it.

"Mikhailo, I had not heard from Tatia in over eight years, and-" Mickey cut Mikhail off with a scoff, shaking his head and looking away from his father.

"You know, I left when I was pregnant with Max; Ian was just diagnosed as Bipolar, didn't wanna take care of himself, ran off with his crazy ass Mom, and dumped me when he finally came back. I left, 'cause I wanted to do what was best for my son. But when Ian found us? I gave him a chance; even if it wasn't with me, at first, I didn't just turn away from him.

"You know why? 'Cause I love him! So, how the fuck could you just ignore my Mom?!" Mickey felt breathless by the end of his rant, a sickening knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he thought of his mother-just twenty-four hours before she lost her life-calling Mikhail in desperation. 

"Mikhailo-" Mickey cut Mikhail off, again.

"Don't call me." Mickey ordered as he turned and walked away from Mikhail, needing to be away from the other man. Luckily for him, Ian had the kids on the other side of the park looking at the light displays.

 

"I'm so sorry, baby." Ian whispered as he kissed Mickey's temple, holding the brunette against his chest-both still naked from sweet, slow sex Ian had hoped would distract Mickey for a moment-wishing he could take this pain away from the man he loved.

"What if she was gonna tell him about me? What if... What if the overdose wasn't an accident? What if she wanted him to get me away from Terry?" Mickey rambled, turning to bury his face in Ian's chest.

"I wish I could tell you, baby." Ian whispered into Mickey's hair, hugging the older man just a bit tighter. "Don't worry about him, Mick; you don't need that asshole in your life."

"I love you, so much." Mickey whispered as he looked up at the redhead, pulling him into a deep, needy kiss.

"I love you, too, Mick." Ian replied, moving Mickey off his lap, quickly dressing both of them, and laying down with Mickey in his arms. Ian wished Mikhail had been who Mickey wanted him to, but he would always have his husband's back. He would be in Mickey's corner, because he loves this man with his whole being.


	12. Memories Better Left Forgotten

**Twenty-One Years Ago**

Mickey felt horrible; his head hurt, his stomach hurt, he was freezing cold even though he was sweating, and he'd been vomiting on and off for three days. All he wanted was to feel just a little better so he could get some sleep, but the eight-year-old didn't think that would happen. He coughed and wheezed as he walked towards his mother's bedroom-glad that his father wasn't home-to seek comfort from the woman. "Mama?" Mickey whispered as he walked into the room, finding his mother crying on her bed.

"Oh! What are you doing up, moya solodka dytyna?" Tatia sniffed, moving to kneel in front of her young son, placing her hand on his fevered forehead. "Miy bidnyy anhel; ty horytʹ!" Tatia gasped, brushing sweaty black hair away from his pale face.

"I don' feel good, Mama." Mickey whimpered, hugging his mother and burying his face in her neck.

"Come with me; Mama will make you a cup of tea and some soup." Tatia said softly, standing up and taking Mickey's hand to lead the sick child to the kitchen. Mickey stayed close to his mother as he ate his small bowl of soup-his mother always made the best tomato soup-and sipped his tea, enjoying being close to his Mama.

 

Mickey was groggy the next afternoon as he walked out of his bedroom, but he was feeling a bit better. He was hungry, though, so he decided to go ask his Mama to make him some lunch. "Mama? Can I have some soup, please?" Mickey asked, knocking on his mother's bedroom door as he spoke. He was a bit surprised when he didn't hear anything. 

"Mama? Are you home?" Mickey called out, looking around for his mother. The strangest part? Her car keys, purse, and shoes were all where she always left them. "Mama?" Mickey called, again, finally deciding to open her door, gasping when he found his mother lying on her bed with a needle in her arm, her lips blue, and her eyes grey.

"Mama! Mama wake up! Mama  _please_ wake up!" Mickey sobbed, shaking his mother, though he was sure she was dead; she was too cold to be alive. He quickly moved to call 911, hoping they could-somehow-save his Mama.

 _"911, what's your emergency?"_ The operator asked as Mickey sniffed and sobbed.

"M-my Mama's n-not b-br-breathin'!" Mickey sobbed, running back to his mother and clutching her cold hand.

 _"What's the address?"_ The woman on the other end of the phone asked the sobbing child calmly. Mickey quickly rattled off the address, trying to make sure his words were easy to understand.  _"What's your name?"_

"M-Mickey." Mickey sniffed, squeezing his mother's stiff, cold hand.

 _"Okay, Mickey, I'm gonna stay on the phone with you until an ambulance gets there, okay?"_ Mickey hummed in agreement. He was still sniffing and crying as the ambulance pulled up to the house, not ready to hear that his mother wasn't coming back.

 

**Present Day**

Mickey woke up gasping for breath and looking around for a woman he knew-logically-wouldn't be there. "You okay, Mick?" Ian asked as he sat up, placing on large hand on the small of Mickey's back.

"Dream about my Mom." Mickey muttered, rubbing his tired eyes. "I wish I could see her, again."

"What was the dream about?" Ian asked, pulling Mickey closer to him and holding him close.

"The night before she died; I was sick for days, and that night I just wanted my Mama... She made me some tomato soup, tea, and held me until I was ready to go back to bed." Mickey said, soaking in the warmth of his husband's skin.

"She sounds sweet." Ian whispered, caressing Mickey's side.

"She was the best." Mickey agreed, refusing to think anything but the best of his Mother.

"She'd be proud of you; you're such a good Dad to our babies." Ian cooed, lacing his fingers with Mickey's. Mickey stayed silent, just taking in any comfort Ian offered.

 

"You okay, Daddy?" Harlow asked Mickey as the brunette tied her shoes before he and Ian took the kids to school.

"Daddy's fine, baby girl. Why?" Mickey asked, taking Harlow's coat off the particular hook it always hung on and helping her put it on.

"You look sad." Harlow noted, tapping the tip of Mickey's nose.

"Daddy's a little sad, but he'll be fine; I got your Papa and you three." Mickey said, leaning closer to kiss her forehead. "Ready for your Christmas party?"

"You're gonna stay, right?" Harlow asked, looking over her shoulder as Max and Ian walked out of the kitchen-with Fiona behind them with Cian nestled into her shoulder sleepily-with trays of cookies in their hands.

"Yep; I'm goin' to your party, and Papa's goin' to Max's." Mickey confirmed, wrapping his arm around his son as Max walked over to him.

"Yay! Party time!" Max and Harlow cheered, making their parents laugh.

"Okay, guys, go out to the car with Papa." Mickey said, standing up and watching his children and Ian walk outside. "Thanks for watchin' him, today, Fi." Mickey said, rubbing Cian's back.

"Not a problem; I'm off work, anyway." Fiona said, watching Mickey cautiously. "Are you gonna be okay? I know the shit with Mikhail was rough."

"I don't know." Mickey sighed, keeping his eyes on Cian. "I was pissed-still am-but I know he regrets it."

"You gonna talk to him, again?" Fiona asked, bouncing the sleeping toddler in her arms.

"Maybe. Not now, though." Mickey said, kissing Cian's cheek. "Text me if you need me to come home and help you with that little monster." With that, Mickey was out of the house with a fake smile on his face; he wanted his little girl to have fun, today, and him moping wouldn't do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> moya solodka dytyna-my sweet baby  
> Miy bidnyy anhel; ty horytʹ!-My poor angel; you're burning up!


	13. Every Memory Comes On, When I Hear That Old Song

"Any reason we're back on the fuckin' Southside?" Mickey asked Ian as they drove through-what had once been-familiar streets. It was the day before Max's birthday-their wedding anniversary-and Ian had asked Fiona and Debbie to watch their children, yet Mickey wasn't sure why; their kids had been to the Southside, so what was Ian's fucking plan here? "They gonna find my body at the bottom of the fuckin' lake?"

"Nah; an orange jumpsuit would clash with my hair." Ian joked, but he kept his eyes on the road as the approached the boarded-up old elementary school they had attended. 

"Seriously, what's up? Why are we here?" Mickey asked, cautiously watching Ian as he climbed out of the car and walked around to open Mickey's door.

"I'm tellin' you a story." Ian replied, taking Mickey's hand and pulling him out of the car.

"It's thirty degrees and you dragged me out here to tell me a fuckin' story?" Mickey questioned, raising those expressive black eyebrows.

"It's not just any story; this? This is our story." Ian said, pulling Mickey over to the fence. "Next month, you're gonna be tearing this school down."

"Yeah; place was a piece of shit when we went here, and that was over twenty years ago." Mickey replied, looking up at the decrepit school.

"It was, but it's also the first place I ever saw you." Ian said, pulling Mickey into his side. "I was in Kindergarten, and you were in second grade; I saw you at recess pushin' Mandy on the swings and I just thought you were beautiful."

"Oh yeah, real beautiful; hand-me-downs that were too fuckin' big on me, a hair cut my mom gave me, and probably covered in mud." Mickey laughed, resting his head against Ian's chest.

"Big blue eyes, a pretty smile, and those adorable ass dimples... I couldn't take my eyes off of you." Ian replied, hugging Mickey closer to his chest.

 

"The dugouts?" Mickey questioned as he and Ian climbed out of Ian's SUV, again, the dugouts and baseball field barely lit by the streetlights.

"This place has a lot of memories for us; we played little league together here, we came here the first time you got outta Juvie, and Max might not be here if we hadn't come here." Ian explained, looking at the overgrown field, sadly. "So many of the places we grew up with are just... Disappearing."

"Feels weird, man." Mickey commented, running his fingers along the rusted fence. "Almost told you I loved you for the first time, here."

"Glad you didn't; the prospect of the cops catchin' us naked would've ruined it." Ian chuckled, kissing Mickey's cheek as he pulled him back to the car.

 

"The Kash-N-Grab. Man, this place looks the exact fuckin' same." Mickey laughed, looking at the store that had helped form their relationship like no other location in Chicago.

"I realized I was in love with you in the store." Ian admitted, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"I know." Ian was shocked to hear Mickey's response, but he should've known; Mickey can read him like a fucking book. "You ran to me when the fuckin' pedophile shot me."

"Had to make sure you were okay." Ian responded, trying not to laugh at the wall next to the store, still reading "Ian Gallagher Is A Dead Man!"

"Yeah, I should probably update that shit." Mickey mused, amazed that he had managed to spray paint the words so far off the ground.

"To what? "Ian Gallagher Is My Man!" or maybe "Ian Gallagher Is My Husband!" could work." Ian laughed, pulling Mickey back towards the car. "We got a few more stops." Ian said, lacing his fingers through Mickey's as they made their way back to the warmth of their car.

 

"Why the fuck are we here?" Mickey asked angrily, looking up at the house he'd grown up in.

"This place? It was a shit show, but we also had our first little glimpse of happiness at this house; we were happy for awhile, even with the memories that live in those walls." Ian explained, stepping in front of Mickey and taking the shorter man's face in his hands. "You're not the scared kid who lived here, anymore, but I loved him, too."

"I love you." Mickey said, wrapping his arms around Ian's neck as snow started to fall around them. Maybe Ian's plan for their anniversary wasn't so bad, after all.

 

"Fiona's house... Not sure what this one's for." Mickey admitted, looking at the house he had grown to love for helping to build not only his husband, but his best friend.

"I made the biggest mistake of my life right... Here." Ian said, stepping away from Mickey enough to stand on the exact step he'd been on when he broke up with Mickey. "I thought I was savin' you from my bullshit, but all I did was hurt the person I wanted to save. Again."

"It was almost eleven years ago, Ian." Mickey muttered, wishing they could leave before he started to think too hard about the day Ian crushed his heart.

"Yeah. And it's still in the back of my mind, everyday." Ian sighed, sitting down on the step, smiling softly when Mickey dropped into his lap.

"It shouldn't be; I'm over it. Just... Let that shit go; it's not important, anymore." Mickey said, forcing Ian to meet his eyes. "We're better, now."

"We got one more stop." Ian said, patting Mickey's thigh to let the brunette know it was time to go.

 

"The courthouse? You gonna tell me you sat in the back of the courtroom when I got sent to Juvie?" Mickey asked as a joke, though he feared Ian may have done just that.

"Nope. This is where we got married six years ago. It's gettin' rebuilt sometime next year 'cause of some major water damage, but it's always gonna be the place I married the man I love." Ian said, staring at the building with a dreamy smile until Mickey pulled him into a kiss.

"Happy Anniversary, Ian." Mickey whispered against Ian's cold lips.

"Happy Anniversary... My Mickey." Ian whispered in response, pulling Mickey closer to him. He had intended to show Mickey that-no matter what shit life threw at them-they had each other's back. He wasn't sure if the shit with Mikhail had forced his hand, or if he thought their wedding anniversary was the perfect time to do this, but he felt like he'd shown Mickey that-despite being a bit messy-their love story was perfect.


	14. Bittersweet Love

Mickey normally loved Max's birthday-loved being reminded that he's had another year with his little man-but on the morning of Max's tenth birthday? Mickey was incredibly sad; it seemed like his little Chipmunk was growing up too fast on him. "He's ten." Mickey whispered sadly, rolling over to face Ian, who was already awake.

"Yeah. God, where the fuck did the last six years go? It seems like just yesterday he was a chubby four-year-old runnin' around the old house sayin' Hyde was a dragon and he was a Knight." Ian mused, his eyes as sad as Mickey felt.

"He's the most amazin' kid, I swear. All three of them are so perfect. How the fuck did we manage that?" Mickey asked, his fingers subtly tracing the stretch marks left behind by his pregnancies.

"No idea, 'cause they don't got a damn thing in common." Ian laughed softly, thinking about the three drastically different personalities of the children asleep upstairs; Max was quiet, wickedly intelligent, and thoughtful, with amazing manners and the ability to befriend anyone. Harlow was a wild-child with seemingly no brain-to-mouth filter, a rather fowl mouth, enough energy that her parents sometimes wonder if she'd snuck coffee, and an amazing sense of humor for her young age. And Cian? Cian was carefree, happy, loving, and just enjoyed living in the moment; he could be happy being the center of attention or watching others bask in it.

"If they had the same hair and eye color Max and Cian would look exactly alike." Mickey pointed out, jokingly. Sure, his boys looked alike, but they were radically different people. Mickey's eyes were suddenly sad, again, as he thought about the fact that-unlike the brother he looked so much like-Cian had never been without Ian. And that? That made Mickey feel guilty.

"Stop thinkin' about it." Ian softly ordered, placing one large hand on the side of Mickey's neck. "You told me to let it go, so I need you to do the same, baby."

"You missed four years with him-missed all that sappy shit you loved so much when I was pregnant with Harlow and Cian-'cause I was hurt and decided to take Max away." Mickey lamented, looking down at the tattoo of their children's birthdates on Ian's collarbone.

"We both know that's not why you did it, Mick. When you left, I wasn't ready to take care of myself, and you didn't want that to hurt our baby. Do you know how much I love you for that?" Ian asked, forcing Mickey to look into his eyes.

"You love me for leavin' you and takin' your son with me?" Mickey asked, an edge of sarcasm apparent in his voice.

"For lovin' Max more than you loved me; you loved him enough that you didn't wanna put him through all the shit I'd pull if I stayed unmediated. You loved  _our son_ enough to put him before anything or anyone else. I love you more than you know, 'cause-once the pain started to wear down-I saw that you were doin' what was best for our baby, at the time." Ian whispered as a sort of praise to Mickey's parenting skills.

"I missed you." Mickey admitted, trying to fight himself when he could feel the tremor in his voice. "I missed you, everyday."

"I missed you, too, baby." Ian soothed. "But you're here, now, and our baby? He's amazing; he's smart, he's kind, and he's a fuckin' amazing big brother to his brother and sister."

"Think he's gonna like the book Harlow picked out for him?" Mickey asked, wishing to change the subject. Despite her wild nature and habit of cursing when she got upset, Harlow was a very loving sister and insisted she pick out a birthday present for Max from Cian and herself. She had surprised Mickey and Ian by selecting a large book of fairy tales that Max has been looking at the last time the family had made a trip to the bookstore in Dolton, but had put back when he saw the pricetag.

"He's gonna love it; you know he loves readin' Harlow and Cian stories." Ian was right; Max loved to sit his brother and sister down and read to them, and it had been the reason he wanted the book, in the first place.

"Just sayin', I think those two beat us, this year." Mickey joked, though he felt it might be true; despite Mickey and Ian buying him the new bike he had asked his parents to get him for his birthday, Max adored his siblings and books. "We better get up; we gotta get the house ready." Mickey sighed, slowly climbing out of bed to turn their house into the comic book themed monstrosity Max wanted for his party.

 

"Happy birthday, dear Maxton! Happy birthday, to you!" The large group of people-including Max's parents, Aunts, Uncles, cousins, siblings, and friends-sang as the boy blew out the 10 candle on his Spiderman cake, a shy, dimpled smile on his face as he looked around.

"Can Maxy open ours first, Daddy?" Harlow asked, clutching Max's present in her hands.

"Up to Max." Mickey replied, watching Max as Ian served all of the kids a slice of cake. "But we're gonna est some cake, first."

"Chocolate cake?" Harlow questioned, raising a single red eyebrow. "My belly's hungry for chocolate cake."

"And it's gonna get chocolate cake, Ladybug!" Ian dramatically exclaimed, setting a slice of chocolate cake covered in red and blue icing in front of the girl.

"Dad, come sit down!" Max called towards Mickey, scooting over on the bench he was seated on to make room for his carrier father. Mickey fucking loved it; even at ten-years-old, he was still his son's favorite person.

"Papa! You gotta sit with me and Key!" Harlow exclaimed, pulling the sleeve of Ian's Henley to get the man to take a seat next to her as Mickey moved to sit next to Max.

"You havin' fun, bud?" Mickey asked, watching his son happily dig into his cake. Ian and Mickey-like always-decided to go all out for their son's birthday; they'd set up cardboard shelves with superhero birthday cards and Max's own comic books to make the entire first floor of their house resemble a comic book store, set up the family's Xbox for a gaming tournament in the living room-which, surprisingly, Harlow had made it rather far in before losing to her brother who eventually beat out Alex and Breelynn to become the champion-had Mandy painting the kids' faces to resemble superhero's iconic masks in the kitchen, and had set up games for kids-including the younger ones like Harlow, Arya, and Cian-in the dining room. Hell, Ian had even covered the large windows in the Den so that-before the gaming tournament-the older kids could use Max's Nerf laser tag set.

"Of course! You and Papa plan the coolest birthday parties! Patrick said he wanted you and Papa to help with his party." Max informed Mickey, picking up one of the Avengers napkins on the table to wipe his mouth. Mickey had to laugh, because-while the party seemed amazing to the kids-he and Ian were fucking exhausted after setting everything up.

"How do you two manage to pull somethin' like this off, every year?" Mari Thompson asked Mickey as she watched Alex devour his own piece of cake.

"Get up at six to set it all up." Mickey said, though he knew Mari assumed he was joking. He was-in fact-deadly serious; he and Ian always requested their children's birthdays off, woke up early to start preparation, stopped to feed their children breakfast and take them to school-in Max's case, since both Harlow and Cian had Summer birthdays-then came home and finished everything before the party guests arrived. Luckily, Fiona, Debbie, Lip, and Mandy all helped them clean it up, every year.

"Time for the birthday boy to open his presents!" Ian exclaimed, causing Harlow to hilariously bounce in her seat and Cian to shout "Yay, bubby!" at the top of his lungs.

 

Mickey and Ian were beyond ready for bed by the time ten o'clock hit. After hours of transforming their house into a comic book wonderland, three hours of screaming kids, and the two hours it had taken to clean everything up once Mickey and Ian got their kids to bed at eight, they were fucking exhausted. "Can we just rent out a fuckin' bowling ally or somethin', next year?" Mickey asked through a yawn as he crawled into bed with his husband.

"If it means not cleanin' for two hours, then yes." Ian replied, pulling Mickey to lay on his chest. "At least he had fun."

"Actually got some cool ass shit, too." Mickey said. Max had gotten some good presents from his friends and family; a bike from his parents, a new sled from Lip, Mandy, and Arya, his book from his siblings, a Spiderman bike helmet from Franny, an Avengers Lego video game from the Fisher/Ball family, a Spiderman action figure from Alex, a book on the history of Marvel comics from Fiona-which had been his favorite present, though he'd been very thankful for all of them-a Spiderman "Ugly Christmas Sweater" from Carl, a new tablet case with Captain America's shield emblazoned on the back from Debbie, several of the Limited addition Marvel Hot Wheels cars from Liam, a friendship bracelet-which Mickey admittedly found sweet and Max promised to never take off-from Breelynn, Chuck Taylor's with the Incredible Hulk on the sides from Iggy, and various comic books from the rest of his friends.

"He did... You ready to go to sleep?" Ian asked, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"God yes." Mickey muttered, getting more comfortable against Ian's chest and closing his eyes. "Love you."

"Love you, too, baby." Ian yawned, finally allowing sleep to take over, glad that their boy had a good birthday.

 


	15. My Only Life long Wish

Mickey had spent Christmas Eve and Christmas ensuring his children were having fun and never once had any inkling that their father felt guilty for cutting his own father out of his life. However, Ian-sadly enough-could see right through Mickey's act. "Go have a cigarette, babe; Max is playin' his new game, Cian's got his Mickey Mouse playset, and Harlow's been hooked on her Fur real friends all day." Mickey knew what Ian was telling him to do, and he fucking loved his husband for understanding; he knew Mickey needed to call Mikhail. Mickey gratefully squeezed Ian's arm before throwing on his coat and stepping out onto the back porch to call Mikhail.

 _"Mikhailo? Is everything alright?"_ Mikhail asked as he answered the phone, clearly wondering why Mickey was calling him.

"I'm fine. I just... Merry Christmas, Mikhail." Mickey said, feeling a bit awkward calling a man he had ordered to never speak to him, again.

 _"Merry Christmas to you, as well, Mikhailo."_ Mikhail rasped, clearly overwhelmed that Mickey was calling for such a mundane reason.

"I'm not gonna get over you ignorin' Ma's call, but I'm not an asshole; you're still part of my family." Mickey breathed out, watching his smoke and breath mix into a cloud in front of his face. "The kids wanted to call and tell you what they got for Christmas."

 _"May I... May I speak to Max and Harlow?"_ Mikhail asked, hopeful that he could hear his grandchildren excitedly tell him what they'd gotten from Santa Claus.

"Yeah. Yeah, Max'll talk to you, first." Mickey replied, stubbing out his cigarette and walking back into the house. "Hey, Chipmunk, you wanna tell your Grandpa Mike what you got for Christmas?"

"Yeah! Is he on the phone, Dad?" Max asked, pausing his video game and hopping to his feet.

"He is. Here ya go, kid." Mickey replied, passing his son his cell phone.

"Hey, Grandpa Mike... Yeah, we got a lot of cool stuff... I got a Spiderman video game, a wagon for my bike so Hyde can go on rides with me, some new clothes, a new Lego Star Wars set, some new action figures, and Dad and Papa got me a cool new coat for school." Max relayed, placing a comforting hand on his brother's head as Cian ran up to him. "You wanna talk to Key next? Yeah, he talks pretty well... Merry Christmas, Grandpa Mike. Here, Key. Talk!" Max instructed, passing the phone to Cian, who adorably tried to hold it with one hand-as his brother had-only to be thwarted by his small size.

"Hi, me Cian! Yes, Santa come to see me... Me get Mickey, an' me get Minnie, an' tars, an' boots yike Daddy, oh! An' me get new bubber ducky! Yeah, Daddy an' Papa get me a tar to dribe!" Cian excitedly babbled, sitting on the floor and bouncing on his little bottom. "Sissy here. Bye bye!" Cian chirped, passing Harlow the phone.

"Hi... Yeah, he's crazy." Mickey and Ian tried not to laugh at Harlow describing anyone as "Crazy" when she was such a hyper active child. "Santa got me Barbies, two fur real friends... They're stuffed puppies that move-mine are Jake and Lexie-and I got new princess stuff for my room, new dresses, and Daddy and Papa got me my own tablet!" Harlow happily explained, moving to hug Ian's legs. "Bye bye, Grandpa Mike."

Harlow hung up the phone and handed it back to Mickey, still clinging to Ian. "Think that went pretty well." Ian whispered, wrapping his arm around his husband. Mickey nodded his agreement and laid his head on Ian's shoulder, watching the boys as Max showed Cian how to put his Lego Star Wars set together.

 

Mickey loved his kids-he truly did-but he was very ready to have his husband to himself once all three children went to bed. He had Ian on his back on their bed and was riding him into the mattress within twenty minutes of having the redhead alone. "Fuck, you're fuckin' huge, Ian!" Mickey panted, using his hands against Ian's chest for leverage as he slowly rocked his hips.

"So fuckin' beautiful, baby." Ian moaned, squeezing Mickey's hips as the thrusted up into his husband.

"Touch me... Please touch me." Mickey begged, squeezing his eyes shut as Ian took his cock in his hand, pumping him in time with their movements. "Ian!" Mickey breathlessly screamed as he achieved orgasm, moaning lowly when Ian stilled and pulled out, quickly removing his condom.

"Awesome Christmas present." Ian chuckled, pulling Mickey to lay on his chest.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself, Army." Mickey laughed, curling into Ian's chest.

"Shut up and go to sleep." Ian murmured, kissing Mickey's sweaty hair.

"Love you, Ian." Mickey whispered, ready to fall asleep.

"I love you, too, Mick. Merry Christmas." Ian replied, pulling the covers over them and closing his eyes. They had truly had a wonderful Christmas with their three kids, and Ian was so thankful for his beautiful family.


	16. The Old And The New

The New Year brought about time for change. For Mickey and Ian's three children, that meant getting rid of toys or clothes they no longer had use for, cleaning out their bedrooms of anything and everything they no longer needed or wanted. For Mickey and Ian, themselves, however, it meant it was time for a tradition they had started their first New Years after they got back together; anything from the last year that they wanted to let go of was written on a slip of paper and burnt. Obviously, they never forgot and sometimes-usually, if Mickey was being honest-failed to actually let go. That didn't mean watching it burn wasn't therapeutic.

"Finally got Harlow down?" Ian asked as Mickey walked out onto the back porch with a baby monitor in his hand. Ian had been the one tasked with getting Cian to sleep, that night, and it seemed that the youngest Gallagher had fallen asleep easier than his older sister considering Ian was already done and outside with the baby monitor from Max and Cian's room sitting beside him.

"Yeah; kid fights sleep so damn bad." Mickey sighed, pulling his coat tighter around himself. "Got yours?" Mickey asked, pulling several slips of paper and walking over to their small fire pit and taking his place at Ian's side.

"Yep." Ian replied, pulling his own slips of paper out of his pocket. The fire was already burning as Ian unfolded his first slip of paper. "Bein' scared that one of the kids is gonna get my disorder." He tossed the paper into the fire before turning to watch his husband.

"Bein' pissed off at Mikhail over the shit with Mom." Mickey said quietly, tossing the paper into the fire.

"Those five years." Ian said quietly, having held back from "letting go" of that time period for a long time.

"Wondering if Harlow understands what Mandy said; I can't keep watchin' for her to see if she's worried I'll off myself." Mickey said, softly, watching the paper as it burned.

"Hating Fiona for the shit she pulled when we got back together." Ian said, wrapping his arm around Mickey as more paper burned.

"Not wantin' people to take care of me; that shit don't make me stronger." The last paper either man had burnt, lifting a weight they hadn't realized they were carrying from their shoulders. "Gonna go check on the boys."

"Yeah, I'm gonna check on Harlow." Ian said, kissing Mickey's cheek as he put out the fire and fallowed his husband inside.

 

"That boy is fuckin' crazy." Mickey laughed as he walked into the bedroom he shared with his husband, having just spent ten minute listening to his youngest son babble about a dream he had about Mickey Mouse dancing with him.

"Yeah, I heard him gigglin' from here." Ian commented, having listened to Cian explaining how he dreamt of his favorite cartoon character to his Carrier father. "He's got one hell of an imagination on him."

"He's a crazy little guy." Mickey commented as he stripped down to his boxer briefs and crawled into bed with Ian. "Miss Max and Harlow bein' that little."

"We could still have another one." Ian joked, earning a punch to his arm from Mickey. "Guess that's a no?"

"It's a "Fuck no"; I'm done bein' pregnant." Mickey muttered, curling into their bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. "No more babies."

"Yes, dear." Ian laughed, moving closer to Mickey and softly pecking his lips. "Love you."

"Love you, too. Now let me fuckin' sleep." Mickey yawned, letting those pretty blue eyes close. Ian watched him for just a moment before falling asleep, himself.


	17. I Feel Better

"How are the kids doing, Mickey?" Doctor Marshall asked during Mickey's first session of the year.

"Max is talkin' about how much he's gonna learn about writing at camp. Harlow's still a crazy kid, but she's always good for a laugh. As far as Cian goes, he's still the happiest, most content kid I've ever met." Mickey said, thinking back to how happy his children had been on Christmas and New Years. "They had an awesome Christmas and we let Max stay up to watch the ball drop on New Years Eve; we were gonna let Harlow stay up, too, but she passed out around nine."

"What about Cian? Was he just not interested in it?" Doctor Marshall asked, smirking at the mental image of the little redheaded girl passing out close to her bedtime even when her parents told her she was allowed to stay up late.

"He fell asleep around seven; he don't like stayin' up late." Mickey chuckled. "Max loved it, though." 

"It sounds like a fun night with the kids." Doctor Marshall observed.

"It was. Max was fuckin' exhausted by the time we got him to bed. Harlow and Key both woke up and we had to get them back to bed before we could do our shit." Mickey said, trying not to yawn. "Max decided to wake me up at five, this morning."

"So you and Ian still annually let go?" Doctor Marshall asked, looking up from his notes briefly.

"Seems to help us both." Mickey commented, clearly tired.

"How have you been feeling, Mickey? You were rather conflicted about your father." Mickey appreciated Doctor Marshall being gentle when he brought this subject up, but Mickey didn't think it was necessary.

"I feel better; I'm not gonna talk to him every fuckin' day or anything like that, but I can't just be pissed off for the rest of my life. My kids knew somethin' was off, and I don't want them to deal with my shit for me." Mickey replied, honestly feeling better about the whole ordeal.

 

"Don't put that in your mouth, Key." Mickey heard Ian say as he walked into the house. 

"Yummy, Papa! You bite!" Cian laughed, clearly enjoying his game. Mickey tried not to laugh-he really did-but he couldn't help himself when he stepped into the living room; Ian was laying on his stomach on the floor with their youngest child trying to shove a chunk of play doh in his mouth while Max and Harlow sat at the coffee table making animals out of different colors of play doh.

"What're you feedin' Papa, Mouse?" Mickey asked, lifting the boy into his arms, finding a blue smear on his chin. 

"Me make food!" Cian laughed, showing Mickey the amorphous blob in his little hand. "Daddy want bite?"

"Thank you, baby boy." Mickey said, pretending to nibble on the lump of clay in Cian's hand. "That's delicious, baby boy!" Cian laughed hard enough for his whole body to turn into Jelly in Mickey's arms.

"Daddy! I made you a dog!" Harlow exclaimed, rushing over to Mickey and handing him a red "dog" made of clay.

"Thank you, Ladybug." Mickey said, taking the gift from his daughter as he sat his youngest son back on his little feet. "What's with the Moon eyes, Gallagher?" Mickey asked without even having to look at Ian as the redhead stood up.

"Just lookin' at my babies." Ian replied, watching Max as he brought Mickey over a green giraffe.

"My giraffe's neck is a little weird, but I think he looks pretty cool." Max explained, allowing Mickey to take the animal. "Harlow, you wanna make some more dogs?" Max asked, extending his hand towards his sister who eagerly took it and walked to the table.

"You tired?" Ian quietly asked, moving to wrap his arms around Mickey's waist. He knew therapy tended to exhaust Mickey, but the brunette seemed just fine.

"No, I'm good. You enjoy Key's play doh food?" Mickey asked, leaning back against Ian.

"At least it's nontoxic." Ian chuckled, watching their children all playing together at the table. Ian wouldn't ask Mickey what he talked about in therapy-if Mickey wants him to know, he'll say something-but he was just happy that the brunette he loves seems to be in a good place.


	18. Summer Time

The first half of the year flew by too fast for Ian and Mickey's liking, and-before they could even process it-they were dropping Max off for his first day of camp. Max had been a bit nervous on his way to the camp facility, but he was beyond excited when they arrived. "Okay, Chipmunk, Dad and I are gonna be here to pick you up at four." Ian said, passing Max his backpack.

"Okay." Max said, moving to hug Ian and then Mickey-who was staying silent as he stood with Harlow and Cian at his sides-with a sweet, happy smile on his face. "'Low, Key, be good for Daddy and Papa. Got me?" Max instructed his younger siblings before hugging each of them.

"Be good, Maxy!" Cian said, wagging his chubby finger at his older brother.

"Bye, Maxy! Have fun." Harlow said with a smile, watching her brother closely as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder.

"And this little guy must be Max Gallagher." A young woman-who couldn't have been older than twenty with long, dreadlocked dark brown hair, a flawless medium dark complexion, a round face with pixie-like features and dimpled cheeks, and a slim, petite body that might have been a foot taller than Max's 3'10"-said, smiling at the boy. "Which one of you is... I'm gonna butcher this name."

"Mikhailo. That's me." Mickey chuckled, taking ahold of Cian and Harlow's hands as they noticed a small playground they both wanted to run off to. "Just call me Mickey."

"Mickey, got it." The woman-who's badge said her name was Janel-said as she made a quick note in Max's file. "Which makes you Ian."

"Yeah. Nice to meet you." Ian replied, smiling at Janel.

"Nice to meet you, too. And you, of course." Janel said, smiling down at Max. "Each of our campers have an editor who is either a volunteer from one of the local high schools or one of our councilors that will work closely with them. I'll be Max's editor, so we'll be seeing a lot of each other, this summer. Now, I saw that Max suffers from migraines, and I wanted to ask if there's anything in particular I should do if he gets one."

"We brought his medication that he takes if he has one. After he takes it, he needs to lay down 'cause it puts him to sleep." Mickey said, signaling for Ian to take over with Harlow so he could retrieve Max's medication from the backpack he still carried for Cian.

"Okay, great! I'll bring Max to the parking lot at four and we can walk you through the projects we did, today. You ready to get started, Max?" Janel asked the child at her side with a vibrant smile.

"Yeah. Bye, Dad! Bye, Papa!" Max called as he walked away with Janel to start his first day of camp.

 

"You sure you don't mind watchin' them for a few hours?" Ian asked Fiona as he put pull-ups and extra clothes in Cian's bag. He'd asked Fiona to watch Harlow and Cian from ten to three so he and Mickey could have some time to themselves. As usual, Fiona jumped at the chance to spend some time with her niece and nephew.

"You know I don't mind watchin' the kids, Ian. We're gonna have so much fun! Aren't we, guys?" Fiona asked, scooping Cian up and kissing all over his chubby face.

"No! Aunty Fi! Don' eat me pace!" Cian laughed, his whole body wiggling in Fiona's arms.

"Aunty Fi! Eat his fingers!" Harlow laughed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Come here, Ladybug." Mickey said as he walked out of the bedroom he shared with Ian, quickly scooping his daughter off her feet. "You steal my candy, again?" Ian tried not to laugh, because-of course-Harlow had stolen some of the Snicker's bars Mickey kept hidden.

"Nooooo!" Harlow laughed, shaking her head and making her bouncy curls fly around wildly.

"Yeeeeees." Mickey replied, moving the single copper-colored curl that managed to get stuck in Harlow's eyelashes. "Aunty Fi's gonna tell us if you don't listen." Mickey warned, knowing that Harlow had a hard time listening and would act out when she was hyper. Harlow always had a lot of energy, but when sugar was added into the mix? The girl was completely wild.

"I'll be good, Daddy." Harlow promised, kissing Mickey's cheek before patting his shoulder to let the man know she was ready to be sat down. Mickey and Ian said goodbye to their children as Fiona lead them out to her car and took off up the street.

 

Having the house to themselves still meant they didn't have to be quiet during sex, but right now it meant they could take a nap and not worry about their three children burning the house down. "Gotta go get the kids." Mickey muttered, burying his face in Ian's chest, not yet ready to give up on his nap.

"Yeah, let's go get our babies. I bet Max has alot of stories about his first day at camp." Ian said, slowly climbing out of bed and getting dressed. He liked having some time alone with his husband, but he did miss his children when they weren't home. And honestly? He couldn't wait to hear what Max had done at camp, that day.


	19. Blast From The Past

"Janel said my "Meet Me" Paper was really good." Max said as he sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with Cian, both coloring in an Avengers coloring book. "They wanted us to write one page about our families, our friends, what subject we like in school, and what we like to do."

"Oh yeah? What did you say about your family?" Ian asked, handing Cian the blue crayon he had dropped.

"That we're crazy." Mickey said, allowing Harlow to crawl all over him with her Anna and Elsa dolls in her hands.

"No I didn't!" Max laughed, dodging a crayon Cian decided to throw. "I said I have two dads, three uncles, three Aunts, two cousins, a younger sister, a younger brother, and that we have two dogs. I said that my sister is really funny like my Dad, that my Papa is really good at teaching us new stuff-like when you taught me to ride my bike-that my little brother shares a room with me and he carries his Mickey Mouse toy everywhere. I said our family is messy, but it's great."

"What did you say you like to do?" Mickey asked his oldest son, trying not to laugh at his youngest son's "focused" expression-his dark eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth-as he colored his picture. Max had been exhausted when they picked him up from camp and had fallen asleep in the car, so this was the first chance they had to hear about his day.

"I said I like to read, ride my bike, color, and play with our dogs and my brother and sister." Max answered, taking a drink of his water. "I said I like science and English the most, at school."

"We're proud of you, Chipmunk." Ian said, handing Mickey Harlow's ladybug blanket-which was just a security measure, considering it was fairly warm, outside-as the girl started to fall asleep in Mickey's lap. Mickey nodded his agreement, reaching over to run his fingers through his little boy's beautiful red hair.

 

"I'm on my way to the Optometrist to pick up Max's new glasses. You need me to make anymore stops on the way home?" Ian asked his husband as he walked up the street-he fucking hated city parking-towards Max's Optometrist's office with his phone to his ear. Mickey was currently picking up Harlow and Cian from their babysitter before picking Max up from camp, so Ian was on errand duty for the day.

 _"Don't think so. Remember he wanted that new Spiderman case for 'em."_ Mickey said before shouting "Don't hit your brother!" into the back seat.

"Take it Harlow's in a mood." Ian said, already knowing his daughter would get in trouble by the time he got home if she didn't listen to Mickey.

 _"When isn't she?"_ Mickey asked in a sigh. Mickey loved his daughter-he really did-but she was more of a handful than both of her brothers combined.  _"Remember when we said "no more kids" after Cian?"_

"Yeah?" Ian replied as a question, hoping Mickey hadn't suddenly decided to spring wanting more children on him. Ian adored being a father, but he didn't want any more children; he wanted to be able to dedicate enough time to each child, and he couldn't if they had four or more children with him working full time and wanting to be able to spend time with his husband.

 _"I'm fuckin' glad we decided that; these three are crazy."_ Mickey said, groaning when Harlow shouted something that-to Ian-sounded like "Attack!" and Cian let out a shriek of pain.  _"Harlow Rue Gallagher! What did I just say?!"_

"Harlow! listen to your Daddy." Ian ordered, knowing the children were able to hear him through the Car's speakers. "I'm gonna get off here. Love you, baby."

 _"Love you, too."_ With that, Mickey hung up the phone and Ian was left wondering how much trouble Harlow was in.

"Orange Boy." Ian froze in place, knowing exactly who was behind him.

"Svetlana. Hey, I heard you went back to Russia." Ian said as he turned around, forcing a smile as he saw the brunette woman before him.

"Move to fancy house with new husband." Svetlana replied, watching a preteen boy-Yevgeny, he realized-at her side. "No leave country, just piece of shit neighborhood."

"It's weird; when I think about him I still see a baby." Ian commented, watching Yevgeny as he continued to stare down at his cellphone.

"Is all grown up, now." Svetlana commented, looking over at her son. Ian noticed it wasn't with love-however-but disinterest; she looked at her own child as if he was an acquaintance rather than someone she loved. He couldn't imagine that; couldn't imagine not loving any of his babies. When Yevgeny finally looked up, Ian let out an audible gasp, because the boy looked like Mickey. Not like Iggy or Terry, but Ian's husband.

"I gotta get going, but, you should call me so we can catch up." Ian quickly scribbled his phone number down on a slip of paper he had and passed it to Svetlana before rushing off.

 

"That's not fuckin' possible, Ian! How the fuck could he look like me? He can't be mine 'cause I'm a carrier, Terry ain't my Dad, and Iggy looks like Terry!" Mickey exclaimed, pacing the floor of the bedroom he shared with Ian.

"Mick, he could be Mikhail's. It make sense; the features he has that look like you? They're ones you got from Mikhail." Ian said, watching his husband chew his thumbnail. He knew Svetlana was a sore subject for Mickey-and Ian didn't blame him-but he was almost certain that Yevgeny belonged to Mickey's biological father. "You don't have to see her-or talk to her-but he deserves to know who his father is."

"Then you do it. She's not comin' near me or any of our kids; I'll beat your ass if you bring that bitch around my babies." Mickey threatened, and Ian believed him; Mickey would do anything for their children, so he had no idea what Mickey would do to protect them from a perceived threat.

"I promise," Ian started, moving to stand in front of his husband, stopping his path. "I won't let anyone hurt the four of you. Do you trust me?"

"You? Yes. Her? Fuck no." Mickey replied, looping his arms around Ian's neck. "She's better than Terry, but not by much."

"I know, baby." Ian said, leaning in to kiss Mickey. He wasn't lying; he wouldn't let anyone hurt his family, even if Yevgeny was technically part of that family.


	20. Intertwined

Ian went over everything he knew about his father-in-law, yet he still couldn't figure out how he would've come across Svetlana, especially when he had been married at the time Yevgeny would have been conceived. "Cheating happens all the time, Sweetface." Fiona said as she and Ian watched Harlow and Cian splash around in a kiddie pool in the backyard of Ian and Mickey's house.

"Yeah, I know. But then part of me..." Ian trailed off, keeping his eyes focused on his two youngest children as they laughed and splashed each other.

"You think he knew Terry went to her." Fiona guessed, seeing the tension in Ian's shoulders.

"He specifically asked for her, that day." Ian whispered, trying to force a smile as Cian looked over at him, waving his chubby hands at his father. "If Mikhail knew... Maybe he knew about Mickey the whole time and just keeps lyin' to him."

"Is Mickey gonna ask Mikhail about her?" Fiona asked, laughing when Jake jumped into the pool with the kids.

"He doesn't wanna talk about it, at all." Ian answered, grimacing at the thought of the way Jake would smell after his swim. "I don't know how to bring it up to Mikhail."

"I don't know how to help with that one." Fiona said, wishing she could help her brother and brother-in-law figure this out.

"Svetlana fuckin' hates me, so I doubt she'd tell me anything." Ian sighed. "You should've seen the way she looked at him, Fi; it was like she had no interest in her own kid."

"I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but not everyone cares about their kids like you and Mickey do." Fiona said, knowing Ian couldn't act that way towards any of his children.

"It always seemed like she cared about him when I was livin' at the house with Mick." Ian ranted, wondering what had changed over the past eleven years.

"He was her leverage; he was what got Terry to force Mickey into marrying her. Why wouldn't she act like the perfectly devoted mother?" Fiona asked as a rhetorical question.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ian agreed, standing up and making his way over to the kiddie pool to help Harlow and Cian out to reapply sunscreen before one of them got a sunburn.

 

"What're you doin' after work, Mick?" Mickey's newest coworker-a twenty something guy named Daniel-asked Mickey as he clocked out. Mickey had only worked with Daniel twice, but the kid was a pretty good worker; didn't ask a lot of questions, worked quickly but didn't make stupid fucking mistakes, and he didn't pester Mickey like some of the younger guys did. He did tend to give Mickey some odd looks, but as long as he didn't start shit, Mickey didn't care.

"My kid's got a project to do for summer camp, so I'm gonna help him." Mickey said, lighting a cigarette as he walked outside.

"Didn't know you had a kid." Daniel commented, pushing his wavy, dark brown hair away from his bronzed face. Mickey supposed Daniel was "conventionally" attractive-dark hair, dark brown almond shapes eyes, thick eyelashes, a sharp jawline, full lips, and a tall, muscular build-but to Mickey? He couldn't hold a candle to Ian.

"Got three of 'em; a ten-year-old son, a five-year-old daughter, and a two-year-old son." Mickey replied easily, always willing to talk about his babies.

"Must be hard raisin' three kids, alone; my Ma had two and it was a struggle." Daniel commented, staring at Mickey as they walked towards their cars-well, Mickey assumed Daniel's car was parked in the area since he was still walking with him-with far too much interest for Mickey's comfort. But what actually bothered Mickey was Daniel's assumption that Mickey was raising his children alone.

"I'm not raisin' them alone, I'm married." Mickey stated as he unlocked his car, noticing that his was the only car around. "Got a fuckin' reason to be over here?"

"No... Nothin'. See ya soon, Mickey." Daniel walked away looking like a kicked puppy without saying anything else as Mickey climbed into his car and headed home. Mickey could tell the kid had a little crush, but he didn't care; he had all he needed or wanted in Ian. As for Ian? He'd be pissed off about Daniel when Mickey told him, but they didn't lie to each other, anymore.

 

"I must admit, I was surprised you called me, Ian." Mikhail said the next day as he walked up to Ian as the redhead stood in a small park in Dolton, still in his work uniform.

"I needed to talk to you away from Mickey and the kids." Ian said, lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. "I need you to tell me the truth, 'cause you've lied too much, as is."

"What do you need to know?" Mikhail asked without attempting to defend himself; how could he? He had lied to Mickey more than once in the year they had known one another.

"Thirteen years ago some shit happened with Mickey after Terry cought us, together." Ian said, his throat tightening as he thought back to that horrible day.

"He told me about that. What does this have to do with me?" Mikhail asked Ian with a sad edge to his voice.

"The prostitute had a baby she convinced Terry was Mickey's to force him into marrying her." Ian said, clearing his throat to keep from crying. "We know the kid's not Mickey's 'cause he's a carrier. Anyway, I saw her and her son a few days ago, and the kid looks like Mickey."

"What are you saying, Ian?" Mikhail asked, narrowing his eyes at Ian.

"Did you fuck a Russian prostitute about thirteen years ago? 5'8" or 5'9", brown hair, green eyes, bad attitude?" Ian asked, not sure if he wanted to know, now that he had asked. How the Hell could he tell Mickey this? Could he keep it from him if he knew?

"Yes." Mikhail answered, making Ian angrier than he expected to be.

"Did you know Terry went to her?" Ian asked, hoping he was wrong on part of this.

"Yes." Mikhail replied, looking away from Ian.

"You're tellin' Mickey this shit." Ian said as he walked away from Mikhail. Ian was so pissed off it was unreal; how the Hell could Mikhail keep that shit from his own child? But-more importantly-how was Ian going to keep this from his husband until Mikhail could tell him?


	21. All For The Chance To Be Lied To, Again

Mickey could tell something was going on with Ian; the redhead had been oddly quiet for the past week and didn't even seem to pay attention to Max's camp stories. "You ready to show me and Papa what all you did at Camp?" Mickey asked his son as Max stepped out of Ian's SUV on his last day of Camp; Family day. Ian was standing off to the side of the car with Harlow holding his hand as the redhead talked on his phone quietly.

""Papa and I", Dad. My friend, Casey is a better writer; he writes really good stories." Max said, turning to watch Ian as he paced with Harlow still at his side and his phone to his ear. "Is Papa okay?"

"I don't know, Chipmunk." Mickey sighed, trying to get a sleeping Cian out of his car seat without disturbing his nap; the kid was  _not_ very nice if you woke him up before he was ready. "Let's go get him and Harlow so we can see hear your stories." Max perked up at that and darted over to Ian, happily explaining that it was time to head into the rec center.

 

"Daddy?" Harlow whispered as Janel walked them through Max's progress over the Summer. Ian had taken over carrying-a still Groggy-Cian and Max was walking in front of them with Janel, excitedly passing Mickey and Ian some of his stories.

"Yeah, Low-Low?" Mickey asked, using Cian's nickname for his big sister as he read Max's story about a beautiful princess, her pet Dragon, and the knight who protected them from the evil Dragons-Mickey had to smile at this, considering it was a game he had played with his brother and sister hundreds of times-with Harlow trying to climb up his side.

"Why was Papa mad?" Harlow asked, finally succeeding in her mission to be picked up.

"What did Papa say that made you think he was mad?" Mickey asked, not being able to think of anything Ian had said the whole morning aside from how excited he was to see Max's work.

"He said they was a asshole." Harlow whispered, hoping she wouldn't get in trouble for saying a curse word if she was quiet.

"Said who was an asshole?" Mickey asked just before he realized this was about the phone call Harlow had overheard when Mickey was getting the boys out of the car.

"The man on the phone." Harlow said, staring at Max's story despite not being able to read well enough to grasp what was going on.

"Daddy'll talk to Papa when we get home from Family Day." Mickey promised his daughter before passing Max his story so he could read it to Harlow.

 

"Max spent another twenty minutes tryin' to decide where to put his trophy after you took Harlow to her room." Ian chuckled softly as he walked into his and Mickey's bedroom that night after he'd-finally-got Max to go to bed. The boy had won an award for "Best Adventure Story" at the camp's award ceremony that afternoon, and he was incredibly happy about the trophy he had received. 

"We're gonna have to put another shelf in the boys' room; kid wants to do the fourth grade spelling bee when school starts back up." Mickey commented without looking up from his phone.

"Wants to play soccer next year, too." Ian said, remembering his son saying he wanted to play because Franny always talked about how much fun she had playing soccer. "You okay? You seemed off all day."

"Who were you talkin' to, earlier? Harlow heard you call 'em an asshole, and wanted to know why you were mad." Mickey said, finally looking away from his cellphone to meet Ian's eyes.

"Mick, before I tell you this, I need you to know I didn't want to lie to you, baby." Ian wryly started, moving to sit on the bed next to Mickey.

"Did you?" Mickey asked, ready to walk away if he didn't like Ian's answer.

"Yeah." Ian sighed, completely understanding when Mickey jumped off the bed.

"You were the one who said "no more lies", Ian! I fuckin' tell you everything like some obedient bitch, and you're gonna lie to me?" Mickey asked, slowly turning to look at Ian with sad eyes. "If you're cheatin', get the fuck outta the house before the kids wake up."

"What? You honestly think I'd risk losin' everything? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?" Ian asked, already in panic mode.

"Then what?!" Mickey demanded angrily.

"I called Mikhail about Yevgeny!" Ian shouted without thinking. "I called him to meet me after work weeks ago, and he said he knew about her and Terry. And that he'd slept with her." Ian sighed, tugging Mickey's hand to get the brunette back in their bed.

"I didn't wanna know, Ian." Mickey said calmly, but he kept his feet firmly planted on the ground; he was still pissed that Ian had lied to him.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby." Ian whimpered when he realized Mickey didn't plan on getting into bed with him. "I'm sorry. Please don't stay mad at me."

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch." Mickey said, grabbing his pillow and exiting the bedroom before Ian could stop him. Ian knew he had fucked up, and it was going to take a lot of work to get Mickey to forgive him, this time.


	22. Problem Solved

Mickey had this... Tick, that only seemed to manifest when he was upset; he'd stay eerily quiet and focused all of his time and energy on Max, Harlow, and Cian. Not that he was ever the "chatty" type, but he would usually talk to Ian. "Alright, monsters, into the car!" Fiona called out towards her eldest nephew and her niece, ushering both Max and Harlow into her SUV with no trouble. "Sure you don't need me to take Key?" She asked her brother as Mickey helped Harlow secure herself in her booster seat.

"Nah, Key's pretty low maintenance, these days; give him some toys, a sippy cup, and take him to the bathroom every once in awhile and he's golden." Ian knew it sounded like quite a bit as he said it, but-compared to his high energy daughter and Max constantly having to run away from his younger siblings if he wanted to read a book-Cian was a breeze to take care of, even with the toddler potty training.

"Bye, Papa! Bye, Mousy!" Harlow shouted as she frantically waved her tiny arms at Ian and her younger brother.

"Bye, Ladybug! Be good for Auntie Fi!" Ian called back, smiling at the giggling redheaded girl.

"Bye bye, Low-Low! Bye Bye, Maxy!" Cian screeched, blowing kisses to Max and Harlow, though Max was already too absorbed in his reading to notice.

"You two be good; me and Papa will pick you up at 5." Mickey told his two eldest children as Fiona climbed into her car to take Max and Harlow to Chicago for the day. "You ready to play, Key?" Mickey asked the toddler in Ian's arms once Fiona drove away.

"Jake?" Cian asked, looking around for the family's loyal guard dog.

"Jake will definitely play with you, Bud." Ian promised, knowing Jake was always willing to play with the two younger Gallagher children; Hyde-on the other hand-kept to himself when his boy wasn't home. Ian didn't really blame Hyde for that; Hyde was getting older, now, and-at five and a half and two and a half-Cian and Harlow were a bit too energetic for the mellow Norfolk Terrier.

"Get him set up in the livin' room; I need some fuckin' coffee." Mickey yawned as he ushered Hyde and Jake back into the house. Fiona had shown up at eight that morning claiming the new Library on the Southside was having a "Kid's day" and she was already planning to take Arya there so she thought she'd take Max and Harlow-which was true-but Ian knew his sister was trying to give Mickey and Ian a chance to talk.

"Here ya go, Mouse." Ian said as he sat Cian on the floor with his Mickey Mouse, some blocks, a toy piano that lit up, and a sippy cup of water. "Mick-" Mickey cut Ian off as soon as the redhead entered the kitchen by holding up a single finger as he started to drink his first cup of coffee of the day.

"I'm not mad, so don't do that "I'm so sorry, baby" shit. You were right to talk to him, but you shoulda talked to me, first." Mickey said, calmly.

"No screaming? No calling me "dick breath" or "asshole"? You're not even gonna give me that "Mickey" look?" Ian sputtered, wondering what was going on; Mickey had a short fuse, and he could be down-right scary if he wanted to.

"The fuck is a "Mickey" look?" Mickey asked through a chuckle as he passed Ian a cup of coffee.

"That look you give me when you want me to shut the fuck up." Ian said, simply.

"Nah, I'm good. Just needed a few days so I didn't knock your fuckin' teeth down your throat." Mickey admitted with a shrug.

"So you  _were_ mad." Ian observed, taking a sip of the bitter liquid in the mug; the same one Max and Harlow had made him for Father's day, last year.

"I'm me; yeah, I was fuckin' mad. But I'm not some hot-headed eighteen-year-old, anymore and I got over it." Mickey said slowly, looking at his husband as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am sorry. I just... If he knew about Svet, what if..." Ian trailed off, not wanting to say his thoughts, out loud.

"What if he knew about me the whole time? Yeah, I thought about that, too." Mickey replied, nodding his head as the sound of Cian's laughter echoed through the living room. "Look, I don't know if he did. But he knows what shit I went through with Terry and Svetlana and he didn't own the fuck up; he's my biological father-sure-but the way I see it? I never had a dad."

"Not one like you are to them, at the very least." Ian agreed, smiling softly when he caught Mickey glancing towards where Cian was playing in the floor. "Fuck him, right?"

"Yeah. Fuck him." Mickey agreed, squeezing Ian's hand as he walked around him to join Cian in the living room.

 

"Hi, do you have an appointment with one of our trainers?" Mandy asked, forcing herself to smile and pretend she didn't recognize the man in front of her as he entered the gym she worked at. How could she not, though? He looked so similar to her brother it was almost scary!

"No. I was actually looking for you, Amanda." Mikhail replied, quickly extending his hand to the woman how was a carbon-copy of his beloved Tatia. "My name is-"

"Mikhail Honchar. I know who you are. The question is, why the Hell are you looking for me?" Mandy asked, trying to keep her "professional" smile on her face, even though she wanted to punch this asshole in the nose for all the shit he'd lied to Mickey about.

"Amanda, from what I understand you and Mikhailo are very close... Could you-I know I do not deserve his time, but-could you please ask Mikhailo to contact me?" Mikhail asked, actually having the fucking balls to look remorseful.

"Why don't you call him if you wanna talk to Mick?" Mandy asked, looking away from Mikhail and down to the schedule of appointments she had in front of her.

"He appears to have... Blocked my telephone number." Mikhail explained, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Then he doesn't wanna talk to you. If you don't mind, could you either sign in or leave? I have to do my job." Mandy said, sounding much more polite than she felt. Mikhail exited the gym with his hands in his pockets and his head held low, but Mandy didn't care; he just kept hurting her brother, and she was tired of all of his bullshit. She just hoped Mickey didn't call the asshole when she told him Mikhail showed up at the gym looking for her.


	23. Mouse/Mousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be from Cian's perspective. I hope you guys enjoy!

 Mickey Mouse was Cian's best friend in the whole world; he had been with Cian as long as he could remember, and Cian took him everywhere he went. Like today, Cian was getting ready to go to Miss Anne's house while Daddy and Papa were at work, and he had to make sure Mickey Mouse was with him. "I'll help Key get his shoes on." Max said as Cian got Mickey Mouse off the couch where he sat him during breakfast. 

Max was a good big brother; he never tried to take Mickey Mouse from him and would always put him back in bed with Cian if he fell. "Are you and Mickey ready to play with Miss Anne and Miss Millie?" Max asked as he slid Cian's shoes on his little feet.

"Wanna play, Mickey?" Cian asked his Mouse, knowing Max didn't hear him like Cian did. "Mickey ready!" Cian giggled, rushing over to Daddy when Max was done putting his shoes on.

"You gonna be good for Miss Anne, Mousy?" Papa asked, making sure Cian didn't drop Mickey Mouse when Daddy picked him up.

"Yes." Cian agreed. Daddy and Papa liked when they were good; they got stickers on their potty charts and ice cream if they were good for Miss Anne and Miss Millie. Cian and Mickey Mouse liked ice cream and stickers, so they would be good.

"Better get these little monsters to Anne. See you after work." Daddy said to Papa, giving him a kiss goodbye before they went outside with Max and Low-Low.

 

Cian liked almost everyone, but he decided pretty fast that he didn't like Zachary. Zachary was new at Miss Anne's and he was mean; he had already yelled at Miss Millie, kicked the sand castle Max helped Cian and Low-Low build, and pulled Low-Low's hair, all before nap time! "Cian, we're gonna go potty before nap time." Miss Millie said, holding out her hand to Cian. He needed to go potty before nap time, because if he had an accident he didn't get a sticker on his potty chart, today.

"I be back, Mickey." Cian told Mickey Mouse, sitting him on their nap mat. He wasn't allowed to take Mickey Mouse to the potty with him, because he'd get dirty in the potty.

"Alright! Zachary, you can get out of time-out and find a Mat." Miss Millie said, pointing to the nap mats on the floor. Max was a big kid so he didn't take a nap, but Cian, Low-Low, and Zachary were all little and took naps after lunch. Zachary was a chubby, pale-that was what Cian heard Daddy call himself because his skin was real light, and Zachary was lighter-little boy with sticky hands-even after he washed them-and messy brown hair, and he was real mad about everything. Cian thought a nap might make him a little happier.

 

"Zachary, that's Cian's toy." Cian heard Miss Anne saying when he got out of the potty.

"No! I want it! Mine!" Zachary yelled, clutching Mickey Mouse in his chubby, sticky hands.

"It's Cian's; he brought it." Low-Low said, standing up off her mat to help Miss Anne get Mickey Mouse back.

"We'll get him back, Key." Max whispered, coming over to grab his brother's hand. Cian liked Max; Max never called Mickey mouse "it" or a toy, because he knew Mickey was Cian's friend.

"No!" Zachary yelled, pushing Low-Low away.

"Zachary, this isn't your toy and you didn't ask Cian if you could play with his Mickey Mouse." Miss Anne said, holding her hand out while Miss Millie checked on Low-Low.

"Can I has Mickey back?" Cian asked Zachary. Miss Anne, Miss Millie, Daddy, and Papa all said if you ask for something nicely people listen better. But not Zachary.

"No! Mine!" Zachary yelled, again. His Mommy and Daddy need to teach him it isn't nice to take things that aren't yours.

"Zachary, this is not funny." Miss Millie said, her voice serious. Miss Millie was really good at getting kids to listen.

"No!" With that, Zachary ripped Mickey Mouse's head off, and Cian began to cry. He heard Miss Millie putting Zachary back in time out, but all Cian could do was keep crying. He wanted Mickey Mouse, and he wanted his Daddy.

 

"Mister Gallagher, I know your son must be upset, but him ruining his own toy is not Zachary's fault!" Zachary's Mommy said to Cian's Daddy when Miss Anne told them about Mickey Mouse's boo-boo. Cian hadn't napped all day, and was still crying when Daddy came to pick him up.

"Miss Davies, Zachary intentionally tore the head off of Cian's toy because Cian wanted it back." Miss Millie said, still looking at Mickey Mouse. She was fixing Mickey's boo-boo, and even let Cian pick what color his stitches were; Cian picked greeen.

"I'll pay you back for the thing. How much did it cost? A dollar at some cheap little general store?" Zachary's Mommy asked. No, Mickey was special and they couldn't get another one like him.

"The Disney Store before we took the kids to Disney World. We don't want your damn money, just talk to your kid." Daddy said, picking Cian up just as Miss Millie finished fixing Mickey Mouse. Sure, he had stitches all over his neck, but Cian was just happy to have Mickey back.

"T-thank you." Cian sniffed, hugging Mickey close. Cian was so happy he had his friend back, he looked down at Zachary and smiled. "Bye, Zach'ry. We play tomorrow?" Cian may not like him too much, but Max said you have to be nice. So, Cian would be Zachary's friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized Harlow and Max never had a security blanket, but Cian does. So, I wanted to explore that relationship. Leave me some comments, beauties! Much love!


	24. Everybody Grows Up

Mickey had never been so pissed off at a woman in his life; that fake redheaded bitch with her overdone spray tan had assumed Mickey was poorer than her because it was obvious-based on his dusty jeans and the scrapes on his forearms-that he was coming from work to pick up his kids. Cian had been an inconsolable mess when Mickey had gotten to Anne's, and all that woman had done? Offered him money to replace the toy her demon son had destroyed. They got lucky enough with Millie being able to sew the head back on Cian's Mickey Mouse, but that bitch needed to learn that money didn't solve every fucking problem!

"Think if we find him another one just like his from the Disney Store he'd believe that Mickey just got better?" Ian asked after they fed, bathed, and put all three of their children to bed. He'd been just as angry as Mickey, but they both knew they couldn't blame Anne and Millie; they had handled the situation the best they could, and hadn't known what Zachary would act like before that day.

"Don't know; he might notice that the button's not gone on his shorts, anymore." Mickey muttered, looking through the Disney Store webpage for a Mickey Mouse the same size and material as the one Cian loved so much. "Think that one was discontinued."

"Maybe we can convince him that Mickey's growing up, too." Ian sighed, sitting down on the bed beside his husband. "He talks to Mickey, so maybe he'd believe us."

"I had a stuffed Tiger when I was his age; my mom let Iggy pick out a toy for me when she was pregnant with me. I called him Cat and took him everywhere with me until I was Harlow's age." Mickey said, smirking at the stuffed Gus on his phone. "Think if we got him a mouse he'd like it?" 

"He knows he's the Baby Mouse." Ian chuckled, snatching Mickey's phone away. "It might not replace Mickey Mouse, but everytime Harlow wants to watch Cinderella he laughs his ass off at Gus."

"He loves that damn mouse." Mickey mused. "I was so fuckin' pissed off when I got there and Anne told me what happened; Cian was fuckin' cryin' and screamin' for his Mickey Mouse and that bitch thought payin' for it would fix the fuckin' problem!"

"I know, baby; I'm mad, too. And I hate hearin' him cry as much as you do, but you said he was still willing to play with Zachary. He's still a good kid even when someone upsets him." Ian soothed, putting a stuffed Mickey Mouse just a little larger than Cian's, the Gus stuffed animal Mickey had found, a Spiderman action figure for Max, and Lady and The Tramp stuffed animals for Harlow in their cart before checking out. "Harlow and Key got birthdays comin' up, anyway."

"Our damn kids are spoiled." Mickey joked, knowing they were both thankful they could spoil their children in a way neither of them had been.

"So?" Ian yawned, laying down. "What happened to Cat?"

"Terry got pissed off and ripped him to shreds." Mickey said with no emotion to his voice as he laid down beside Ian. "Mom tried to fix him, but there wasn't much left."

"That why you never tried to stop Key from takin' Mickey everywhere with him?" Ian asked, pulling Mickey close enough that their chests were pressed together.

"No; I never tried to stop him 'cause he's two." Mickey grumbled, closing his eyes to end the conversation. Ian accepted it, and fell asleep to the combined sounds of Mickey's breathing and the boys' snores coming through the baby monitor. 

 

"Harlow's wants a  _what_ party for her birthday?!" Fiona demanded, laughing under her breath as she and Mickey cleaned the living room of Mickey and Ian's house around the three sleeping children. Fiona didn't dare say it to Mickey's face, but she thought it was sweet how well Mickey knew his kids; he knew that-once they started to get tired-all he had to do was turn on a movie and let them get comfortable in whatever seat they chose. Today, Fiona walked into the house to find Max curled up at one end of the couch with Hyde sleeping against his stomach and a blanket thrown over him, Cian at the opposite end of the couch with his Mickey Mouse under his arm, and Harlow laying on the floor with Jake beside her as they nodded off to  _"How To Train Your Dragon 2."_

"A fuckin'  _tea party!_ I didn't think she'd be so damn girly when I was pregnant with her." Mickey grumbled, taking the box Fiona had brought with her-that Ian had thankfully shipped to Fiona's house instead of theirs-out of the kitchen cabinet and searched through it's contents for the Mickey Mouse plush toy for Cian.

"Hate to break it to ya, but she's a girl. Plus, she lives with four guys; it'll be good to let her be a girl for awhile." Fiona calmly explained, knowing Mickey wasn't going to tell Harlow no, anyway; that little girl had her parents wrapped around her little finger.

"Yeah yeah yeah." Mickey mumbled, staring at the stuffed animal in his hands. "I can't do this."

"What's worse; replacin' it or havin' him heartbroken when it's head comes off, again? It's been a week and Millie's had to fix the stitches twice." Fiona had a point, but Mickey wasn't sure he could lie to his son about his favorite toy. 

"I'll give him this one-tell him it's a friend for Mickey-and see what he does." Mickey decided, looking into the living room to ensure his children were all still asleep.

"Look at you; all grown up." Fiona joked, taking the Gus and Tramp stuffed animals to hide them in Ian and Mickey's bedroom. Yeah, Mickey was grown up; and he fucking hated it. All he wanted to do was ensure his son wouldn't end up heartbroken like he'd been when Terry had destroyed his toy, and he couldn't do it because he'd be lying to his baby boy. Yeah, growing up sucks ass... So-Mickey decided as he gently switched out the two Mickey Mouse toys-Cian didn't need to start growing up, just yet.


	25. Birthdays And Daddy Issues

Cian had seemingly accepted that Mickey was growing up, and was very happy that his "boo-boo" was healed. He was back to his happy, exuberant self by Harlow's fifth birthday. "Daddy, me help?" Cian asked, watching Mickey as he sat up the small tables in the Den with flowers, tea sets-tiny porcelain toy sets, of course-and lacy, disposable table cloths for Harlow's "tea party" later in the day.

"You wanna help Daddy put flowers on the tables?" Mickey asked, glad that both boys wanted to help with their sister's birthday party; Max had spent the whole morning helping Ian make "floral arrangements" from the three rose bushes in their backyard-that the previous owner had planted and Max had insisted on taking care of-and baking cookies with Debbie for his sister and her friends, while Cian delicately tried to set tables alongside Mickey. "Put the pink ones on that table." Mickey instructed, pointing to the "pink table" to the left of the room.

"Yes, Daddy." Cian said, taking the mason jar-that Carl had painted a light pink and tied a white bow around-to the table and slowly climbing onto a chair to set the "vase" in the center of the table. Mickey stood up straight and looked around, examining the family's work; the walls of the Den-which he and Ian had painted light blue for their children's play room-were covered in white, pink, and yellow streamers, the tables were all set with corresponding roses, vases-thanks again to Carl-table cloths, and tea sets, making the room look like a little girl's fantasy world.

"This feels weird." Ian sighed, looking around at the frilly, girly room around him.

"Yeah. Thank fuckin' God for Debbie and Fiona; they knew what to do, here." Mickey commented, glancing out into the kitchen at where Harlow was finishing her breakfast.

"At least the boys helped us." Ian reminded him, taking the rose-printed napkins and setting them on each table. "Gonna get our little Princess dressed for her party." Ian walked away, leaving Mickey to get Cian out of the Den and dressed for the party.

 

Despite everyone being exhausted by the end of Harlow's party, the little girl had a blast "riding horses", throwing a "Ball" in the back yard, and having her tea party with all of her friends. "She has too much fuckin' energy." Ian yawned, stretching out on the bed he shared with his husband as Mickey stared at the box Mikhail had sent Harlow for hee birthday sitting in front of him. "Gonna open it?"

"Don't know why he fuckin' decided to send Harlow a present." Mickey muttered, staring the box down as if it had personally offended him.

"'Cause he wants you to talk to him, baby; if there's a way to get through to you? It's the kids." Ian replied, knowing that-if people knew nothing else about his husband-everyone could tell he was an extremely dedicated father.

"I'm not givin' it to her... Not gonna give him that satisfaction." Mickey decided, taking the box and hiding it in their closet.

"Debs thinks Harlow's got ADHD." Ian said, remembering the conversation he'd had with his sister earlier that day after telling her Harlow would be repeating Pre-school, next year.

"Wouldn't even know how to fuckin' tell if she did." Mickey yawned, crawling under the covers with Ian. He knew his daughter had a lot of energy-she always had-but he didn't believe it was a problem; her teacher had explained that-due to Harlow still being younger than most Kindergarten kids-it was best she repeat Pre-school, and had been admit that Harlow was a fairly good child during school.

"Don't think she does; she's energetic, sure, but she doesn't really have a hard time focusing." Ian murmured, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

"Night, Gallagher." Mickey whispered as he turned the light off, deciding none of his thoughts were too pressing to keep him from going to bed.

"Night, Gallagher." Ian repeated, smirking as he pulled Mickey closer to him and fell asleep. Before Mickey fell asleep, however, he decided to get ahold of Mikhail, if-for no other reason-to find out what else he'd lied about and to make the man own up and claim his youngest son before Yevgeny turned thirty; the kid deserved to know who his real father was before he turned thirty. Mickey wouldn't wish the identity crisis he'd had after discovering Mikhail was his biological father instead of Terry on anyone else.


	26. The Day To Day

"Max! Harlow! Shoes on and out the door in five minutes!" Mickey called up the stairs as he tried in vein to get a pair of pants on a giggling Cian. "You gotta wear pants, Key." Mickey groaned, wincing when Cian accidently kicked him in the stomach.

"Alright, enough beatin' up on Daddy. Up we go!" Ian said, lifting Cian off the ground so Mickey could slide his pants on him. "If you take 'em off no Mickey Mouse Clubhouse before nap time." Ian knew it would work; Cian fucking loved that stupid show, and wouldn't risk missing it just because he'd recently decided being naked was the best thing in the world.

"Keep 'em." Cian muttered, picking his Mickey Mouse up the second Ian sat him on the ground and sulking over to the TV.

"Sure you don't want me to take those two to school since I'm off, today?" Ian asked, watching Mickey as he stuffed his car keys in his pocket.

"It's on the way to the site, so I got 'em. Max! Harlow! You better be ready for school!" Mickey called up the stairs as he finally managed to get his boots on.

"Ready!" Both redheads exclaimed, darting down the stairs with their backpacks on and the dogs at their heels.

"Lunches. Be good. Love you." Ian said, passing each kid their lunch box-a black metal box with the word "Marvel" spelled out with the faces of the Avengers for Max and a glitter-coated unicorn insulated bag for Harlow-as he dropped a kiss on each of their heads.

"What did I get?" Harlow asked, looking up hopefully at Ian.

"Peanut butter and Jelly-Strawberry, not grape-carrot sticks, your cheese cubes, and a juice box." Ian said, already prepared for the pouting fit he'd get if he packed Harlow grape Jelly after she decided it was "gross" last week.

"What about me?" Max asked, giving Ian the same look.

"Turkey and cheese sandwich, celery sticks, apple slices, and a juice box." Ian informed his son. Both children seemed pleased with the answers they were given, so Ian moved on to Mickey, passing him the insulated red and white flip-top box.

"If I find a fuckin' juice in here I'm gonna kick your ass." Mickey mumbled as he accepted the kiss Ian planted on his lips.

"No juice. You got a few water bottles 'cause I don't wanna get a call that you passed out from dehydration at work." Ian said. "Love you, now get them to school."

"Love you, too, Gallagher. Come on, monsters; head out." Mickey ordered, ushering their eldest children out of the house.

"Nakey time!" Cian exclaimed, running around completely naked with Mickey Mouse in his hand and a smile on his face.

"This is gonna be a long ass day." Ian muttered to himself as he walked around the living room retrieving Cian's clothes.

 

Ian was completely worn out by the time Cian fell asleep on the living room floor, having chased the boy down and redressed the two-year-old nudist more times than he could count. Trying to keep him dressed so they didn't have another incident like last week when he decided to take off his pants in the grocery store was a pain in the ass. "He give you any trouble, today?" Mickey asked as he walked into the house after work, Max and Harlow entering quietly behind him.

"He stripped a few times, but other than that he just wanted to play." Ian yawned, lifting his arm so Harlow could curl up against his right side. "How was your first day of school, Ladybug?"

"Is Kindergarten the end of school?" Harlow asked, hopefully, seemingly wanting next year to be her last in school.

"Nope; I'm in fourth grade." Max replied, pulling the blanket tighter around Cian's sleeping form. Max may be eight years older than his brother, but he absolutely adored Cian.

"School lasts forever." Harlow whine, burying her face in Ian's chest.

"Yep. Sorry, kid." Ian said, ruffling his daughter's messy curls. If only Harlow knew how much she'd miss these days once she was an adult; she'd never want childhood to end.

 

"You got a plan, yet?" Ian asked Mickey, watching the brunette as he laid out Harlow's school clothes for the next day. He knew Mickey wanted to get Mikhail in a room with Yevgeny so the boy could meet his biological father, but he hadn't managed to make it happen, yet.

"What the Hell am I supposed to say to the kid? "Hey, I'm the guy who's name is on your birth certificate as your father but I'm the carrier your mom raped with my Step dad's gun on both of us 'cause he caught me havin' sex with my boyfriend"? Then maybe I can tell him "Your real father's  _my_ father, too." That'll go over well." Mickey scoffed, shocking Ian that he so casually brought up his rape.

"Maybe not that." Ian said, watching Mickey set Harlow's clothes on the shelf they had put up in the kids' bathroom to keep the little girl's school clothes from being covered in Jake's hair. "You'll figure something out."

"Right now all I wanna figure out is how to keep Harlow from droppin' outta school before Junior High, how to keep clothes on Cian, and what sunscreen is gonna work for Max durin' his soccer games." Mickey said with a yawn.

"Time for bed." Ian chuckled, squeezing Mickey's shoulders as he lead the man downstairs to go to bed. Life could get chaotic with three kids, but-to Ian-no one was better at handling that chaos than his husband, so he had no doubt he could eventually help Yevgeny meet his real father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The naked phase is something I realized I hadn't written, but a lot of kids go through. Leave me some comments to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Much love!


	27. Time After Time

"Clothes stay on, today." Ian ordered as he kneeled in front of Cian, making sure the two-year-old could see that he was serious. "I mean it; if Miss Anne or Miss Millie tells me you took your clothes off you're gonna be in big trouble, Cian Lawson." Cian's green eyes widened comically at Ian's words; his parents never called him "Cian Lawson", but he already knew-despite his young age-that when Ian or Mickey called Harlow "Harlow Rue" or Max "Maxton Krew" they were in  _a lot_ of trouble.

"Not Cian Lawson... Key." Cian whined, trying to talk Ian out of his decision that he would be potentially put in time out if he disobeyed.

"You'll be "Key" if you listen; otherwise you're Cian Lawson." Ian said, trying not to smile; his son insisting Ian use his nickname instead of his full name was too damn adorable.

"No nakey time." Cian pouted, kicking his little feet.

"Papa loves you, buddy. Have a good day with Miss Anne and Miss Millie." Ian said, kissing the tip of Cian's nose, which made the toddler giggle.

"Love you, Papa." Cian replied, wrapping his small arms around his father's neck before he darted off to play and Ian stood up to head off to work for the day.

 

Mickey had told Ian he'd contacted Svetlana, but he knew Ian would insist he come with him for support if he knew Mickey and Svetlana were meeting up, so Mickey kept that piece of information from his husband. "Look good for piece of shit." Svetlana commented as she walked into the shitty little dive bar they were meeting in. Mickey cringed as he heard her voice, thinking back to the time he'd been forced to spend with the Russian woman.

"Less miserable than I was when we were married." Mickey commented, sipping the Pepsi he'd ordered.

"Was a good wife to you; let carrot boy rub dicks with you." Svetlana snarked, taking a seat next to Mickey. "Why do you want me to meet you here?"

"Thought you'd want to talk about Yevgeny's real father." Mickey said, trying not to look at Svetlana; he wanted to help Yevgeny, but Svetlana had made his life a living hell and had threatened to tell Terry he was still with Ian, knowing very well the man would kill Mickey and Ian, both.

"You are finally ready to be father to your son?" Svetlana asked, causing Mickey to whip his head around to stare at the woman.

"You know he's not mine, Svet; I'm a carrier. Hell, you were the one who took the letter to Ian when I left." Mickey said, eyes wide as he stared at Svetlana. Had she told her son Mickey was his father, despite knowing it wasn't true?

"Does not mean my Yevgeny not yours." Svetlana replied, tossing back a shot and signaling for the bartender to bring her another one.

"That's exactly what it fuckin' means; I can't get anyone pregnant, Svetlana." Mickey said slowly, trying to ensure she understood.

"Is bullshit American way of thinking; carrier can still have baby the right way." Svetlana scoffed as she tossed back her second shot. "Son looks like you."

"'Cause you fucked my biological father. As for "the right way?" Ain't nothin' wrong with the way I had my fuckin' kids." Mickey was pissed off; insult him if you want, but leave Ian and his kids out of it.

"Yevgeny is your kid." Svetlana practically fucking growled, turning her head to glare at Mickey.

"He's my half-brother, not my son. Look, I just called you to give you Mikhail's number. Call him or don't, but we both know that kid ain't mine." Mickey said as he slammed the slip of paper down next to Svetlana's before standing up and exiting the bar without another word.

 

Ian was-understandably-upset that Mickey had went to see Svetlana without telling him, but he was more upset when Mickey told him about the conversation he'd had with the woman. "Health classes teach about Carriers; how the Hell does she not know carriers can't impregnate anyone?" Ian asked, still baffled by Svetlana's comments.

"Who the Hell knows. Fuck, I told her the kid wasn't mine when I told her I was pregnant with Max." Mickey replied, putting Max's jersey, shorts, and shin guards in the washer. "How the Hell can one kid's clothes smell so damn bad?"

"It's his soccer gear, babe; it's gonna stink." Ian chuckled, watching Mickey crinkle his nose at the smell of Max's clothes. "Look, you did what you could; Svetlana's shit ain't on you."

"Just pisses me off." Mickey grumbled, starting the washer and checking the calendar they kept next to the washer to keep track of Max's soccer games on; he had a game Saturday morning. "She's always been a bitch, but I thought she at least gave a shit about her damn kid."

"Maybe she'll surprise you and call Mikhail." Ian offered, trying to improve his husband's mood.

"I gotta go pick Max up from practice." Mickey muttered, walking past Ian and out of the house. Ian sighed, knowing Mickey was having a hard time with this, but he hoped he'd get through this without too much issue.

 

"So you're playin' Goalie, Saturday?" Ian asked his eldest son as the family ate dinner, that night.

"Yeah. Coach Davies says I'm getting better as a Goalie." Max said, pleased with his improvement.

"That's great, buddy." Ian praised, glancing at Mickey as the brunette helped Cian eat his dinner.

"We better pick up your new goggles." Mickey commented, knowing Max couldn't play Soccer without his glasses, and his protective goggles had a broken frame after practice, today.

"Can I get blue, this time?" Max asked Mickey, staring at the man hopefully.

"Yeah, Max." Mickey agreed, effectively calming Ian's nerves; Svetlana had upset him, but he was still dedicated to being the best father either man knew.

"I no get nakey!" Cian exclaimed, rather proud of himself for staying clothed all day.

"Good job, Key!" Mickey praised, scooping his youngest child up and sitting him in his lap to finish dinner.

 

"Will no meet Yevgeny; says Yevgeny cannot be his son." Svetlana relied to Ronnie Milkovich, staring at the man through the glass as she visited him.

"You got one job, Whore; get my brother's faggot son away from the redhead!" Ronnie shouted, slamming his fist into the glass.

"Says he is not his son; says his real father is my Yevgeny's father." Svetlana replied, not at all bothered by Ronnie's outburst.

"Just get him away from that fuckin' redhead; I'll do the rest when I get outta here." Ronnie ordered, standing up to leave as the whore continued to sit there, angry she hadn't done enough to get her big payday.


	28. Contingency Plan

"Shit didn't work, last time. What the Hell makes you think he'll make a move, this time?" Daniel asked Ronnie Milkovich, wondering what made the man believe Mickey Gallagher would suddenly be interested in him. "I told you, before; he blew me off when I tried. He does his job, talks to a couple of the guys, and goes home; fuckin' guy has no interest in anyone who ain't his husband." Daniel explained, wondering why Ronnie still wanted him to seduce his nephew.

"You're the contingency plan; if the Whore can't get him away from that redheaded asshole? You will." Was Ronnie's answer, though Daniel was still frustrated; he'd met Ronnie when he'd been locked up for possession, and the man had offered to pay him to seduce his nephew-Mickey-when he got out, after finding out Daniel was bisexual. Daniel wasn't sure he'd go through with it until he saw Mickey; the man was fucking gorgeous, so Daniel decided it was worth it if he got the money  _and_ Mickey Gallagher.

"And I'm tellin' you, he don't want no one but his husband; he's got no interest in me." Daniel replied, angrily.

"Then try fuckin' harder!" Ronnie shouted before slamming the phone down and walking away. Daniel sighed, knowing he'd have to work his ass off to get Mickey; not just for the three grand Ronnie was offering, but so he'd have the beautiful, blue-eyed man, for himself.

 

"You gonna be at the game on Saturday, Mick?" Ross-one of the older men in the construction crew Mickey worked on-asked as they sat down for their lunch break. Mickey had been a bit surprised to see Ross at Max's first Soccer game until the man explained that his grandson-a little boy named Xander-was on Max's team.

"Yeah; after I missed the last one I told Rick I can't work Saturdays." Mickey explained, quickly checking his phone to see if he had a message from Carl-who was watching the kids until Ian got off work since Mickey had to work late, today-before sliding the device back into his pocket. "Xander's playin' Sweeper, right?"

"Sure is; kid' gettin' pretty good, but Max is the best Sweeper on the team!" Ross praised, having seen Max play in every game, this year.

"He's playin' Goalie, Saturday." Mickey said, just happy his son enjoyed Soccer so much.

"Xander played Goalie last Saturday; he's pretty good as a Goalie, but he's been dyin' to play Sweeper." Ross said, sounding very proud of his grandchild. Mickey wished his children had a grandparent like Ross, but-unlike his own children-Xander only had Ross and his wife-a sweet woman named Louise-due to his parents being addicts and losing custody of the boy when he was Cian's age. "Louise and I are plannin' a Barbecue for the team after their last game, next week. We better see you, Ian, and the kids there."

"Yeah, we'll be there." Mickey promised, knowing Max had become close to Xander throughout the course of the season. Mickey got his phone out, again to text Ian, knowing the Redhead would remember Ross' plans better than he would.

_Mick <3 (3:45PM): Ross and Louise are havin' a BBQ for the team after the last game._

_Ian (3:46PM): Max will love that; Xander's his best friend on the team. Oh! He wanted know if Xander could come over to play after the game, Saturday, so can you run that by Ross? He asked when I was takin them to school, this morning._

_Mick <3 (3:47PM): Yeah, I'll ask him._

_Ian (3:48PM): Thanks, Baby. Love you!_

_Mick <3 (3:48PM): Love you, too._

"Max wanted to know if Xander can come to our place after the game, Saturday." Mickey relayed to Ross, knowing the man would agree; he was growing as attached to Max as he was his own grandson.

"Sounds good. Xander already asked if Max could stay the night with him after the Barbecue." Ross explained. Here's the thing about Mickey and his kids; aside for Max staying with Ian when they first found one another, again, and staying with family during emergencies-or that one Father's day when they insisted they needed to be with Debbie the night before-Mickey hadn't spent a night away from any of his children. He liked Ross and Louise, but being away from his babies for a night? It always left Mickey anxious. But, he knew Max and Xander were close friends, so he'd have to suck it up for a night.

"As long as Max takes his medication it should be fine." Mickey replied, trying not to feel the crushing weight of the fact that his eldest child was growing up on him.

"Xander takes meds for migraines, too, so Louise and I will make sure Max takes his; we know how bad those things are on a kid." Ross said, comforting Mickey a little bit. If Max was going to be away from home, at least he was with people who understood what his condition was like.

"Hey, Mick!" Daniel exclaimed, plopping down beside Mickey. "I know this is a fuckin' long shot, but I wanted to know if you were free to grab a drink Saturday." He was hitting on Mickey much more brazenly than he normally did.

"Give it a rest, Rivera; he's fuckin' married." Ross chimed in, seeing how uncomfortable Daniel was making Mickey. He liked Mickey; the kid was a good father, a hard worker, and he looked at his husband the way Ross had looked at his Louise for the past twenty-five years. Daniel-however-Ross had a problem with; the kid spent more time checking out Mickey's ass than he did actually working, and Ross knew for a fact Daniel was aware that Mickey was married.

"I'm talkin' to Mickey,  _McConell."_ Daniel replied, glaring at Ross. "Take your leprechaun ass back to Ireland so we can talk like adults."

"Leprechaun? Really? Best Irish insult you have is callin' him a fuckin' leprechaun?" Mickey chuckled as he finished the last of his lunch. "Just wonderin', what kinda name do you think "Gallagher" is?"

"Irish." Daniel replied, which had Ross and Mickey both rolling their eyes.

"You got it, Sparky." Mickey replied, Sarcastically, hopping to his feet and extending a hand to help Ross-who had developed bad knees from years of working construction and generally being fifty years old-back to his feet. "Guess I like leprechauns." With that, Mickey and Ross walked away and Daniel was left trying to come up with a plan to get Mickey Gallagher to fall for him.


	29. Plans At Work

Mickey hated mornings; too bright, too hard to leave his comfortable spot beside Ian, and too much work getting three kids awake, fed, dressed, teeth brushed, and out the door when all they wanted was to go back to sleep. He'd rather everyday be Saturday, so the kids could wake up on their own schedule, eat breakfast, and lounge around in their PJs until they decided they were ready to do anything else. "Max's last game of the season." Ian yawned, nuzzling his nose into Mickey's dark hair. "Kid's so excited to spend the night with Xander."

"Still not crazy about that part." Mickey muttered, rolling over so he was nose-to-nose with his husband. "Shit's different with Max than it is with Harlow or Cian."

"He's your baby; I know Harlow and Key are, too, but you've always clung to Max. Fuck, he was all you had for five years." Ian said, tracing an invisible pattern on Mickey's skin.

"I love Harlow and Cian, but you ain't wrong; Max was my fuckin' rock for years and he didn't even know it." Mickey sighed, enjoying the sensation of Ian's warm fingers dancing across his skin. "Gonna take me awhile to get used to him wantin' to go out with his friends and shit."

"He's comin' home, tomorrow." Ian offered, wrapping his arm around Mickey's waist.

"Yeah, I know." Mickey grumbled, closing his eyes, again. "Kid's won't be up for another hour."

"We  _could_ go back to sleep. Oor..." Ian smirked as he rolled Mickey onto his back and started kissing his way down the brunette's neck.

"Definitely a better way to spend an hour." Mickey breathed, turning his head and pulling Ian's hair until the redhead moved up to kiss his husband's lips. Maybe morning wasn't such a bad time, after all.

 

Daniel knew he had to find a way to get Mickey alone, and the best way he could think of came from overhearing Mickey and that old bastard, Ross, talking; Ross' Barbecue for Mickey's son's soccer team! He had a friend-Anna-who had a son on the same soccer team, so he begged her to let him tag along to the barbecue so he could scope out Mickey's husband. "You never even came to any of Jordan's games, so why the sudden interest in his team?" Anna asked as they stood in Ross' backyard, surrounded by kids-still wearing their gear from the game-and their families, all eating, talking, and generally having a good time.

"It's free food and a couple guys from work have kids on the team." Daniel replied, watching Mickey as he practically fucking hung off some tall redhead's arm. Daniel just didn't get it; he was younger, he was more muscular, and he was almost positive he could turn Mickey out better than that pale fucker could. So what was his appeal?

"Daddy!" A little girl with a head full of springy red curls shouted, running towards Mickey as a little boy with similar red curls ran after her. "Maxy swallowed his tooth! I said the tooth fairy wasn't gonna give him nothin' but he said she would!" The girl explained after Mickey had picked her up.

"The tooth fairy knows Max lost his tooth, so he'll be fine." The redhead said, kneeling to look at the little boy's mouth. "Yep, it's gone. You okay, bud?"

"It didn't hurt; it fell out when I was eating one of Misses McConnell's carmel apples." The little boy-Max, Daniel guessed-said, a slight lisp in his voice from losing his tooth.

"We'll go get you some water to rinse your mouth out, Max. You okay with Harlow and Key for a minute?" Mickey asked his husband, setting the little girl back on her feet and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Key hasn't left the sandbox since we got here and Harlow's too busy eatin' candy to run off; I think I can handle 'em." The redhead joked, standing up and kissing Mickey's cheek before the brunette disappeared into the house with his son at his side.

"I gotta piss." Daniel muttered, moving to walk into the house, only stopping when he noticed Ross whispering to Mickey's husband and looking in his direction. Old motherfucker needs to mind his own damn business.

"Daniel, right?" The redhead asked as he walked up the stairs to the back deck, his hands in his pockets. "Ian Gallagher; Mickey's husband." He had a look on his face that spoke volumes; it said "don't even think you're gonna change that" as looked Daniel over. "Ross said you work with him and Mick."

"Yeah, and?" Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, daring this man to say another fucking word.

"And, Mickey and Ross both said the same thing; they said you hit on my husband. A lot. And, they both told me you know Mickey's married." Something in Ian's face made him look... Almost dangerous as he stared Daniel down. "The kid who walked in there with Mickey?

"That's our oldest son. See, Mickey and I? We've been together since I was fifteen years old; we have three kids together, and we're both happy. Don't think some guy checkin' out his ass at work and tryin' to ask him out is gonna change that." Ian stepped a little closer to Daniel, not at all intimidated by the fact that Daniel was larger than him.

"So I'm gonna say this as nicely as possible, 'cause my kids are here; stay the fuck away from my husband. I don't fuckin' care if you're taller than me, I can lay your ass out without thinkin' twice." Ian stepped back, offering a very out of place smile after his threat. "Nice to meet you, Daniel." And just like that, Daniel was reconsidering whether or not Ronnie's offer-or Mickey Gallagher's perfect fucking ass-was worth pissing off a guy who could look that lethal.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some comments, beauties! Much love!


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